


A Mate Most Begrudging

by Vixen13



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Alpha!Wade, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Body Worship, Clint/Loki if you squint, Deaf Clint Barton, Fluff, Infertility, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Men Crying, No mpreg, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, Vanessa/Warren, mail order omega, omega!Peter, sassy chickens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 46,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixen13/pseuds/Vixen13
Summary: It’s the height of the Gilded Age in America where everyone is searching for a new life and a new fortune from booming industry to the colonization of the wild frontier. Wade Wilson is a disgraced alpha trapped in the in-between of east and west, high society and labor, recluse and shunned. Though he’s convinced himself that he’s just fine on his own, others are more than happy to meddle in his perfectly quiet life before he loses his grip on reality more than he already has.Peter Parker is a down on his luck omega who needs money fast. Knowing that laying tracks is a quick ticket to a short life, he let himself be talked into joining the mail order omega program. He’s careful about the alpha he chooses and determined to carve out a life for himself with a handsome stranger. But the shock of his alpha’s appearance is nothing compared to the slamming of the door in his face as Wade declares he has no intention of mating with anyone, especially not some gold-digging omega tart.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 238
Kudos: 335
Collections: Spideypool Big Bang - The 2020 Collection





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Art Post](https://twitter.com/Gensyzart/status/1361009765556637696?s=19)
> 
> This is probably the most traditional ABO I've ever written. Enjoy it while you can, folks. lol
> 
> I could have sworn I started this during last year’s spbb, but when I mentioned that in chat, I was slapped with this receipt: [link](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/730080480807878677/739850567538573322/unknown.png) So this is nearly 2.5 years in the making! Talk about dedication to my plot bunnies. I’ve yet to date anyone that long... Anywho!
> 
> Shout out to my lovely cheerreader and beta [JolinarJackson](https://jolinarjackson.tumblr.com/)! Thank you SO much for your support and dedication to the cause! (Her spbb fic can be found [here](https://spideypoolbigbang.tumblr.com/post/642185871976742912/title-anchored-author-jolinarjackson-artist).)
> 
> I’d also like to credit GeekMom13, Jennicide, and Nimohtar for beating me over the head to work on this for two whole years. (Especially Nim, who made me write an extra chapter in the middle of this. >.<) And of course, my support group who always let me rant and kept me focused: TimidTurnip, VoidBean, Doctoring, and Riseofthefallenone.
> 
> I was paired up with the nicest artist in the world! It was an honor to know she enjoyed the story so much, and her sketches were constantly open in a browser tag as inspiration for me. We spent multiple days discussing scenes, outfits, and color pallets. It was a blast and the best experience I've ever had in a big bang. You’re the best, Gensyz! [https://twitter.com/Gensyzart](https://twitter.com/Gensyzart)
> 
> Finally, special thanks to my private student who caught me researching tractors during her study time and taught me everything I needed to know about large scale farm equipment and crop options because she lives on a farm. She didn’t really understand why I needed to know, but she discussed it with me anyways. lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up my own old-timey formal forms of address. So instead of things like “my lady” or “gentle sir” it would be “oma” for omega, “ala” for alpha, and “eba” for beta. Also, instead of Mr. and Mrs./Ms./Miss, it will be Al./Be./Om. in reference to their genders. Why, you ask? I counter with, why not?

_“The world is cowed by the whims of a stubborn omega.”_

Arthur the sturdy plow horse snuffed hard enough to spray snot all over the front of Wade’s work shirt. Wade, for his part, gave the horse an unimpressed look.

“I hate plow season, too, but there ain’t no slackers on this farm, so get over it.”

With another whuff, Arthur pawed at the dirt. They argued a bit more before Wade managed to strap everything onto the belligerent horse and get started. They had a lot to do. Wade only hired farmhands when he absolutely needed them. So if he worked from sunup until sundown, then he might be able to do it all himself. It sounded like a lot, but it kept him distracted.

In truth, he hated being alone out here on the farm with only the animals to talk to. However, the looks people gave him in town were unbearable. They had known him from _before_ , and that somehow made it all the worse.

Not that he had much time to dwell on those thoughts. Soon, all his focus was on the field ahead. It was mind-numbing work that left him achingly sore by the end of the day and starving to boot. At least he only had to deal with his own meals as the two crazy dogs he had dug up moles and rabbits for themselves. Not that he really owned them, they’d just shown up one day, decided to start sleeping in the stables, and never left. They were good guard dogs, so Wade didn’t complain, despite the constant yapping.

The sun was setting by the time he dragged himself up the steps of his house and into the mudroom to clean off. The place was too big for him. He’d built it back when he was still a pompous idiot that hadn’t realized how his life was going to end up. So it was two levels, had a full storage cellar with a canning room; living room, kitchen, dining area, mudroom, and workroom on the first floor; and three bedrooms and an omega den on the second floor. He even had a covered back porch set up for laundry with a rocking chair he’d built himself.

The place was meant to be filled with noise and life. Thus, most of the rooms were closed off. The workroom needed no office for there was no business as he’d once planned in his naive youth, nor would it ever be turned into a sewing room by a devoted maid or butler. Wade had never finished making his fortune, so he couldn’t afford such frivolous spending.

Worst of all, the omega den would remain empty. There wasn’t an omega in the world that would accept his courting now, and he had no intention of forcing that on some impoverished, hapless thing that wouldn’t be able to refuse. He was better than that, at least, if not much else.

Pumping water into the kitchen basin, Wade wiped the sweat and dirt from him and contemplated what he could cook for dinner. There were still some canned beans in the cabinet, leftovers from the winter stockpile, that he could cook with some jerky. Maybe an egg or two just to mix things up. He was out of bread, though he wasn’t sure when he’d have an opportunity to bake more. It was a time-consuming process.

A shrill ring pierced through the house and just about stopped his heart. He flinched a good few inches off the ground and clutched his chest before realizing what the noise was. That damned phone! He hadn’t wanted it in the first place, so of _course_ Vanessa had to force it on him. The witch!

He stalked over to the phone and yanked the earpiece up, squinting at the contraption and leaning over the part sticking out that he vaguely remembered he was supposed to speak into. “What? What is it?”

“Wade?” Vanessa’s normally smooth, velvet voice was rendered flat and tinny in the device. “It’s about time!”

“About time, nothing. You nearly killed me with this thing. Why is the bell so loud?”

“It should be louder, most likely.” Even through the distortion, he could tell she was miffed about something. “I’ve been trying to call you all week, you know. What use is having a phone if you never answer it?”

“You were the one that installed the damn thing. I didn’t want it,” Wade grumbled, leaning one hand against the small table the infernal device sat on. He hated having to bend over to get his mouth close enough, but building a new table just for the phone he didn’t want felt like defeat.

“Nonsense,” Vanessa scolded. “It’s useful since I can never tell if you’re doing well without showing up on your doorstep. Speaking of which—”

“Vanessa, no. You shouldn’t be hanging around strange men during your engagement.” He said the words flippantly enough, but there was still a kind of old ache to them, like a stiff scar that tugged at the skin. Once upon a time, Vanessa had been expecting Wade’s proposal, but that was long in the past.

“You are not a strange man,” she chided. “Besides, I am coming with a company of people.”

“What? Why?” Wade hated having people over, especially ones he may not know. Vanessa knew that, damn her.

“You know that mail order omega business I told you about?” she asked, voice attempting to radiate innocence, but it certainly didn’t work as well over the phone.

“You didn’t.” Wade suppressed a growl. “Vanessa, damn it, tell me you didn’t!”

“This is why you should answer your phone,” she plowed on, unrepentant. “We’ll be there in three days’ time. You should tidy up.”

“No! I will not let you subject some clueless omega to my—”

“Wade, dear, I’m hanging up. You will not be able to call me back because you never learned how to use your phone.”

“Don’t—”

“Three days. See you then, love.”

The muted click barely registered in Wade’s head as he continued to yell and curse at the dead line. He was going to throttle that woman. He should have removed her as the caretaker of his funds long ago, but his reluctance to go into town made it a necessary evil. She sent him things he would need before he’d even realized that he needed them, then worked all the numbers for his budget so that he didn’t have to. She’d been harping on about omegas for a while, overly concerned with the number of dry ruts he’d had, but buying an omega was something he’d flat out refused.

How much of _his_ money had she spent on this farce? And surely no sane omega would have chosen him. No, it would be someone desperate who was only there to get paid. He had no desire to share his rut with some bitter omega who stared at the wall and prayed for it to be over. Absolutely not. He’d send the whole lot of them away the instant they arrived, Vanessa included. That would be her punishment.

Wade ran a hand across his bald head and released the growl that pressed hard against his chest. Only that damn woman could push him to such feral reactions. Alpha or not, the world truly was cowed by the whims of a stubborn omega.

Before he could rage against his circumstances anymore, his stomach growled back at him. “Right. Starving,” Wade muttered as he slammed the earpiece into place and trudged back to the kitchen.

Sure, the constant back-to-back dry ruts weren’t great for his mental health, but a dead-eyed omega playing house wasn’t going to work out much better. He wasn’t the kind of alpha that could just pretend an omega’s worshipping act was real. He knew better.

He ran his fingertips down his cheek, feeling the textured skin that would forever mar him and scream his sins to the world. He had ruined his life all on his own and paid the price for it. He needed no more punishment and no more guilt.

Vanessa be damned for her meddling.

☙☀❧

Peter stared out of the train windows in awe at the passing landscape. He’d never left his small home in the city. Well, other than the handful of times they’d traveled a few hours to the coast. Those were fun memories, buying seafood treats from the food carts and watching boat races. That had been long ago, however, as hard times had struck soon after Uncle Ben had been injured.

Originally, Uncle Ben had worked at a printing press and then as a meat packer at night. Working himself to the bone for his family meant his body did not take well to him injuring his back. He picked up odd jobs when he could but was often bedbound. Aunt May began working as a seamstress, though it barely paid the bills. Not long after that, sickness spread through the city in the form of a terrible hacking cough.

Aunt May and Peter survived it. Uncle Ben did not.

Peter dropped out of his education after that and spent the money set aside from his parents’ death, originally a fund for his schooling, to care for his grieving aunt over the next few years. He’d never see university now, though he didn’t regret his decision. Still, that money would not last a lifetime, and there were few options for an omega that had not managed to acquire a high school degree.

He’d thought for a long while that when the time came for him to be on a train, it would be taking him as far west as it could and drop him off with other hopefuls wishing to make money by laying down tracks. That inevitability had terrified him for years. It was dangerous work, and even if he managed to survive, it would wear down his body into something useless. Even now, he still had trouble catching his breath at times thanks to the sickness that had ravaged his lungs.

It was Mary Jane that had changed his fate.

_“Are you serious?” he gaped at the flyer in his hands, declaring all the benefits of being sold off to some lonely alpha on the frontier. “You can’t be serious.”_

_“You get to choose!” Mary Jane insisted. “Just don’t pick one far away. So long as the brute is on the east coast, I’m sure some civilized manners would have survived.”_

_Peter rolled his eyes, “Stop calling alphas brutes.”_

_“I will once they stop acting like it.” She stuck her nose in the air prior to pushing more tea into Peter’s hands. He grumbled but uncurled himself from the chair in her sitting room and sipped at it. “Just think about it. This is far less dangerous than going out west. If we didn’t hear from you for years, there would be no telling if that was normal or if you were dead.”_

_He grimaced but couldn’t argue._

Thus, Peter had made his choice and sold himself to an alpha that looked as if he could provide decently educated conversation from time to time. It wasn’t as if Peter was high society, far from it, but his years in school, the friends he’d made, and those few people who’d known his professor parents had connected him to those above his otherwise impoverished situation. He knew how to act and talk as if he were of better standing than he was, and he planned to use that to his benefit. If he was determined to sell his body, he may as well sell himself into a higher level of society.

Peter’s thumb ran anxiously over the top of the simple suitcase sat beside him. One trunk full of books, one suitcase, one bag, one hatbox—that was what his life had been reduced to. It was embarrassing to think about. What if the alpha realized he was just a plain, boring, low-class omega?

_No, don’t think like that! That’s why MJ dressed you to impress._

Peter wore a cream button-up shirt and a copper scarf in lieu of a tie, the scarf previously belonging to Aunt May. Most of Peter’s ties were a bit worn on the edges or fading in color, all of them passed down by Uncle Ben. Peter also donned his uncle’s finest dress slacks that were a deep charcoal grey and pressed perfectly. Over everything was a coat worth more than the rest of his wardrobe combined.

It had been a gift from Mary Jane upon discovering that he’d been requested by an alpha and would be leaving. Something to remember her by, she’d said. It was also a lovely copper color, the top cut like a suit jacket with thin lapels that bowed outward, meant to show off breasts he didn’t have. It cinched at the waist, the front cut an inch or so below his belly button, while the back fell to his ankles. It was the height of omega fashion.

To top it off was the wide-brimmed felt hat that Aunt May had only ever worn for special events. There was a cluster of tinted glass pretending to be precious stones anchoring copper feathers that trailed along the side. It was simple yet elegant, which matched Peter’s over-polished shoes.

He was aiming for sophisticated. After all, just as Mary Jane had said, alphas didn’t order a city-raised omega expecting someone dirty and impoverished. No, they were looking for someone to show off. The alpha request Peter had accepted came from a man who was handsome and cocky-looking in the small picture that’d been provided, so it was obvious what the man wanted: a trophy.

So a trophy Peter would be. He couldn’t afford for the arrangement to fall through.

One of the train’s inspectors walked between the rows of seats announcing where their next stop would be. Peter’s stomach churned with nerves. He’d spent a good week traveling, and once he was off the train, there was only half a day in a carriage left to reach his final destination. At least the alpha didn’t live too far from the tracks. The short distance also meant that visiting Aunt May was a real possibility. Perhaps Peter would be able to convince his new alpha to allow a visit within the year.

“Nervous?”

Peter looked up at the elderly inspector who stopped at his side. “Is it that obvious?”

The man chuckled. “You’ve been squirming in your seat since before the sun rose. You could've slept a little longer.” He winked.

“Ah, well…” Peter’s fingers fiddled with the hem of his coat. “Today’s the day I settle into my new home.”

“Any alpha greeting _you_ is the luckiest in the world, I’d say.”

Peter all but choked on nervous laughter. “I don’t know about _that_.”

“Don’t fret, don’t fret. The towns out here are small and always excited to meet new people. You’ll settle in just fine.”

“Thank you.” Peter offered the friendly inspector a smile. The man had been so kind during the entire trip. It really helped to soothe his frazzled nerves.

“It’s my pleasure to put a smile on your face, oma.” The inspector tipped his hat before moving on.

Peter took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. The inspector was right. Towns may be small considering how far out they were, but they were growing around the tracks and not all that far off from the bigger cities. These places _wanted_ to bring in new blood to help them grow. They had no reason to snub a city-bred omega. Peter should be welcomed with open arms.

It would be _fine_.

The train whistle blew, causing Peter to flinch in his seat and look outside at the slowing landscape. He was so close now. His stomach roiled, but he took a deep, calming breath against it, feeling his chest prickle as it expanded, a reminder of the sickness that had changed his life’s story forever. And now here he was, ready to begin a new chapter that he wasn’t sure he even wanted.

“Get ahold of yourself,” he mumbled. He would just have to make the best of it, and that was that. “I’m sure Al. Wilson will be perfectly accommodating.”

Peter would later learn that he was unexpectedly overly optimistic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of these are real quotes that I altered, and some I made up on the spot. I wanted some ambiance~ but boy did I regret that decision once I had to come up with 14 of these things. @.@


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My page breaks are black and consistent on browser, but on mobile, they turn into different shaped emojis. rip

_“A lone alpha will forever be in want of a mate.”_

Perhaps only a single car full of people disembarked with Peter, leaving the stand beside the tracks relatively uncrowded. Workmen heaved Peter’s trunk over to him and struggled to set it on a wooden dolly so that Peter could cart it himself. He thanked them with a kind smile which the younger alpha blushed over and the older beta teased his coworker for.

The train gave a long, shrill whistle as Peter was left standing alone and desperately trying to catch his breath through the nerves and smoke that did nothing for his lungs. He felt abandoned now that he was off the train with no real concept of where to go next. Obviously, he should walk inside the building and find a seat to at least collect his thoughts. That was reasonable, right?

“Om. Peter Parker?”

Peter turned to find a well-dressed man, possibly beta going by the width of his shoulders though he was too far away to smell yet, who looked to be in his mid-forties. “Yes, that would be me.”

The man smiled. “I’m Be. Phil Coulson, your arrangement representative.”

Already, Peter could feel himself relaxing. At least he didn’t have to hunt anyone down. He was grateful that the representative had come looking for him first. He held out his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Be. Coulson.”

“Please, call me Phil.” The man bowed over Peter’s hand.

“Oh my, you look even more lovely in person!” a new voice chimed.

Behind Phil was a woman dressed _much_ nicer than Peter with long, black hair done in perfect ringlets. She had on a tiered dress with puff sleeves that should have been demure, but wasn’t. The skirt was slit up the front, showing off embroidered stockings, and there was boning in the bodice that forced her large breasts up to press against the open loop over her chest as a tantalizing hint of what she had to offer. She had a shape that screamed breeding material, one that Peter had always insisted that he wasn’t jealous of, but he admittedly felt incredibly self-conscious standing next to her.

Worst of all, her entire outfit from hat to boots was sapphire blue trimmed in silver which easily announced her as a woman of means. She outshone Peter in every way. She was a statement. Peter was just a lackluster attempt.

“Om. Parker,” Phil said with a neutral smile as he waved a hand at the woman. “This is Om. Vanessa Carlysle. She handles the affairs of your mate-to-be’s estate.”

To say that Peter was confused would be an understatement. The woman was beautiful, refined, and obviously knew how much money Al. Wilson had. As her neck was on full display, it was clear that she had not yet been mated. So why would she help purchase a mail-order omega? Were they related? She had a different last name, but it was still plausible.

He must have paused for too long, for she walked over to stand beside Peter and wrap her arms around one of his. “I’m sure you have loads of questions about your future alpha. Never fear, I’ll answer them all. Phil, dear, could you see to Peter’s bags?”

“Of course, oma.”

Just like that, Vanessa had taken over and they were moving through the station and out to the dirt roads spotted with waiting carriages. “We’ll be riding through town for a bit before we take the road out to the farm. You’ll get to see the main shops.” She smiled brightly. “Less than you’re used to, I’m sure, but they provide everything a person needs.”

“That sounds like just enough,” Peter replied on instinct. He felt the immediate urge to speak in bland, polite terms as he normally would for those of high society, which he felt was safe to assume Vanessa was. “So have you worked for Al. Wilson long?”

“Oh, long enough. Someone needed to keep an eye on things when he moved into that farmhouse. Here we are!” She stopped in front of a carriage complete with a canopy to protect them from the sun or any possible weather. It looked to be in good condition, and Peter wondered if it belonged to Vanessa or the mysterious Wade Wilson.

She pulled him up and offered a cushion for his seat, her manner overly courteous in a way that made Peter nervous. He couldn’t quite explain why he felt that way. It should have been reassuring to know that Al. Wilson’s staff was so welcoming. Except, nothing about Vanessa said “staff,” and her perky attitude made Peter think she was hiding something.

For a time, he let Vanessa prattle on about the details of the town, though it was too much information to absorb all at once. Phil and the carriage driver had Peter’s things strapped down quickly, and they wasted no time in setting off down the dirt roads. Phil sat across from the two omegas with an easy smile that gave away nothing. He must have perfected it, given his work in matchmaking strangers. Peter imagined that there were many omegas who were in a fit of nervousness once arriving at their destination.

Not that Peter wasn’t the same, he was just better at hiding it.

Vanessa filled what would have been an awkward silence by pointing out people in town as they passed them by and giving bits of history on each one. She was quite the socialite, it was clear, and she seemed to enjoy a bit of scandalous rumor as well. She was doing her best not to gossip too much, but she slipped up a few times. Whenever it happened, she popped her fan and fluttered it at her face while murmuring nonsense. The little moments did far more to help Peter relax than her attempts at small talk.

“So Al. Wilson has expanded his interests into farming?” Peter asked during a lull in Vanessa’s constant stream of pleasantries.

She must not have been expecting such a question, for she paused a long few seconds before regaining her bright grin. “Oh, he’s always had this desire to live in a house he designed himself. I can tell you that you will have plenty of room there.”

Peter smiled. “That’s good to hear.”

“I’ll be quite relieved to know you’re there keeping him company. I worry about him being out there all alone, and he never answers the phone I put in.”

“Alone?” Peter furrowed his brow. “At a farmhouse? Aren’t there other workers?”

Vanessa smoothed her hands along the tiers of her skirts before looking out across the rolling hills they traveled through. “He’s always been the type to think he can do everything by himself.”

“How does he find the time to keep up with his other investments while doing so much labor?” Peter pressed, desperate to know exactly what this strange alpha was like.

“Oh, I handle all of the paperwork.” She offered him a sly smile. “I’m far better at beating results out of his business interests, and I’ll have you know he’s not nearly as appreciative of my skills as he should be. Likely he’s jealous of how much more I could accomplish even before he fell ill.”

Peter’s eyes widened and Phil’s sharp gaze locked onto Vanessa. It was clear she was aware of her slipup. She popped her fan and fluttered it as she gazed out of the carriage, hiding most of her face.

“Al. Wilson is sick?” Peter asked.

“Oh dear, no,” Vanessa flashed him a smile that felt too big. “He caught a touch of something years ago, but he’s fully recovered.”

“It’s good to hear that he’s well,” Phil said, his own pleasant face giving nothing away, though his fingers looked tense from where they sat in his lap.

“Nothing lingers?” Peter asked, his fingertips resting over his own damaged lungs.

“Not at all!” Vanessa snapped her fan shut. “He’s healthy as an ox, and works harder than one, I’d say. All that sun and open air clearly benefits him.”

Peter forced himself to relax. He wasn’t about to catch something or become a widow anytime soon. If the alpha could run a farm by himself, then he had most certainly recovered his health and then some. Peter could think of no walking disease that would allow anyone to keep up with such a demanding lifestyle.

That did not explain why Al. Wilson avoided others, however. Though, perhaps he was using it as an excuse to allow Vanessa to take over his affairs so he no longer had to deal with them. That didn’t make much sense either, of course. He came from a class that necessitated social engagements, and his picture had shown a charming, well-dressed man adept at such things. And why go out of his way to order a city raised omega if he had no intentions of showing off such a trophy to small town society?

Peter rubbed his sweaty palms against his trousers. There were missing puzzle pieces, he was sure of it. _Of course there are!_ he scolded himself. _The two of you know nothing about each other._ _He likely thinks you’re a suspicious mystery as well._ And he was, in a way, as there was nothing in his history logged with the agency that indicated why he would choose this life for himself.

They would just have to take the time to learn about one another, simple as that. Peter did his best to let that thought comfort him for the rest of the trip.

The softly rolling hills of barley and hay dominated the sides of the road with only the occasional cluster of trees in the distance to break up the monotony. They passed a farm full of curious cattle that watched as they passed, and a few dogs chased the carriage from time to time. It was peaceful, and the air was filled with the smell of green. Peter took careful lungfuls of air, making sure not to take too much of the dust and pollen that coated everything around him and trigger a coughing fit.

A large house came into view once the sun was high and hot overhead. Vanessa pointed it out with a boisterous waving of her hands, naming it as their destination. Peter took it all in, surprised by how much he liked the look of it. Two stories with a wrap-around porch, plenty of windows, and a clay shingled roof. It was bigger than expected considering Al. Wilson lived on his own with no farmhands.

Peter was, of course, happy to see it. After living most of his life in a cramped apartment in the city, he was excited to have so much room. He’d be able to have as big of a garden as he pleased and plenty of space to enjoy the cool night air free from the clouds of chimney smoke found deep within the cities. It would, perhaps, be a bit lonely with no neighbors close enough to call to through open windows, but that was the price paid to have such picturesque scenery.

Was Al. Wilson lonely living out here for so long, and in such a big house, with no one for company?

“Pull up to the house and have Peter’s things unloaded,” Vanessa said to the driver. “Afterwards, you can bring the horse to the barn for a bit of rest while we take care of things.”

“Yes, oma,” the driver replied.

Peter shuffled in his seat. The time to meet his alpha was drawing near. He began to seriously wonder what he’d gotten himself into. He knew nothing about this person or how he’d be treated within this home. Would he be expected to work the farm? Would his lungs keep up?

“Nervous, dear?” Vanessa asked with a coy smile.

“Just a little restless,” Peter said as he rubbed his sweaty palms off on his trousers once more.

“Don’t fret, Wade’s a wonderful person.”

“I’m quite certain,” Peter replied automatically, though they were empty words to him.

Two dogs came tearing across the fields to run circles around their carriage. They were nothing but furry blurs, though one was golden and the other white. Both were quite average in size and stature, nothing standing out to mark them as an intimidating breed. Peter hoped that they were socialized and not overly aggressive to strangers.

As the carriage slowed to a stop before the quiet house, the horse got in a good nip to one of the dog’s tails, effectively chasing them off. Phil stepped down first and offered his hand to both omegas before helping the driver unlatch and carry Peter’s luggage to the porch. Vanessa lifted her skirts and briskly took the stairs, rapping her knuckles against the heavy wooden door in a happy rhythm.

Nothing happened. Not a single sound. She tried the door handle but apparently found it locked. Peter hesitantly climbed the handful of steps after her.

“Perhaps he is still in the field?” Peter offered.

“It’s his rest day,” Vanessa replied, her previous good humor icing over into something terrifying to behold. To all of their surprise, she lifted her fist and pounded on the door hard enough to rattle it. “I know you’re in there! Answer this door at once!”

Peter gaped as she continued to shout with increasing belligerence. He turned to look at the others, but even Phil appeared to be out of his depth, though he was doing his best to control his expression. The driver, however, openly gawked, eyes bugging out in his head.

“Go away!” a deep, muffled voice finally shouted from inside the home. “You’re not welcome here!”

“Don’t give me that, you sack of shit!” Vanessa roared in return before heading over to the line of windows and testing each one to see if she could force them open. “I gave you plenty of warning!”

“And I told you where you can shove that omega tart you bought!”

“How dare you—”

“Up your twat! In case you forgot!”

“I’ll rip your tongue out for that!” Vanessa stomped her foot in frustration before storming in the other direction to try a different line of windows. “Don’t drag this sweet boy into your bullshit!”

“ _Me_?” The incredulous voice grew louder from within. “You’re the one that spent my money on this stupid idea of yours!”

“And what, you’re just going to leave us out here to sleep on the porch?”

“Take him home with you, if you care so much!”

Peter felt like he was going to be sick. The well-crafted floorboards beneath his feet must have vanished, for he was falling to the deepest pits of the earth. He reached out and gripped the railing hard enough that his knuckles turned white. Was this really happening?

He looked over to the only sane companions he had in this world now flipped on its end, praying that they had somehow puzzled out the mystery and formed a plan. The poor driver was fanning himself with his hat, blushing at the colorful words being tossed through the door of the house. Phil had a tightening around his eyes that was a step away from anger. It was clear that everyone was gobsmacked by the uncouth scene playing out.

This wasn’t how polite society worked. Peter had specifically chosen an alpha of _polite society_ for that reason. But apparently, that alpha had not chosen _him._

“I wasn’t request—” Peter tried to say but was cut off.

Vanessa twirled around in a fanning of skirts, a jarringly pleasant smile on her face as she addressed the driver. “Be a dear and bring the horse to the barn.”

“Don’t you dare!” the man inside roared.

Phil cleared his throat. “This is a bit unorthodox.” Peter almost laughed at how much of an understatement that was.

Her clasped hands tightened, shoulders tensing under the scrutiny of the other men. “He’s a good man, and he _will_ be wed.”

“I believe that is his decision to be made,” Phil replied before looking to Peter. “And yours.”

There was a pause before Vanessa took a deep breath and said with the utmost gravity, “I will not let him die.”

It struck Peter then what an alpha being so alone on a farm would mean. Just as an omega could become sick from so many dry heats in a row, so could an alpha from dry ruts. It was a fact of life that necessitated seeking out mate bonds. How long had Al. Wilson been alone for Vanessa to go to such extremes?

Well, in a way, Peter and Vanessa were on the same side. He _needed_ this alpha to finish their bargain so that Aunt May could live a long, comfortable life. Perhaps the alpha was not pleased with taking a stranger into his home, but Peter would simply have to convince everyone that he was a mate to be desired.

Pulling himself together, Peter walked up to the barricaded door and politely knocked. “Al. Wilson, I understand that you are upset given the circumstances. However, I am also at a loss with the sudden turn of events. I am parched and weary from travel and would be indebted to you if we could speak about this face to face, perhaps over some tea.”

There was a long pause as everyone held their breaths, waiting on the response. In the distance, a cow let out an annoyed cry accompanied by barking dogs. The hum of bees flitting about filled the drawn-out silence.

A harsh breath could be heard, as if Al. Wilson was directly on the other side of the door now. “Face to face, is it?” The way it was said sounded ominous.

The door clacked and thumped before slowly swinging open, the afternoon light spilling across worn clothes, a tall, sturdy frame, and piercing blue eyes. In the harsh sunlight glinting off patchworked skin, the puzzle piece Peter was missing clicked into place. Somewhere behind him, the driver gasped in alarm.

Al. Wilson was scarred, and though Peter could only see the man’s hands and face, he knew that scarring was everywhere. It was a distinct and recognizable pattern, left behind from a virus that ravaged the body, causing chunks of skin to crack open and bleed or completely slough off during the height of symptoms. Many people died from it. Al. Wilson was lucky.

Though it was clear he didn’t see himself as lucky. The virus he’d once contracted was spread sexually, which lended it to extreme stigma among the uneducated. Likely, everyone Al. Wilson once knew had branded him as abhorrently promiscuous and thus punished for his sins, leaving a mark for all to see. Many people also believed that the virus was still something that could be spread even after a person recovered. That was untrue, but it was a pervasive myth, leaving any who were marked to live out lonely, shunned lives.

Peter knew all of this because he’d studied it. He’d had a neighbor with the scarring who lived alone due to her parents disowning her. Aunt May and Uncle Ben had made sure that Peter was educated on the topic so that it was one less person to treat her poorly for something that was not her fault.

“Like what you see?” Al. Wilson sneered, lip curling with derision.

 _Ah, that classic “I’ll hurt you before you can hurt me” technique,_ Peter thought to himself. He was familiar. He’d used it himself on more than one occasion.

Lifting his chin and raising his eyebrows, Peter replied, “Thank you for being so accommodating, ala.”

Thrown, Wade took a step back, and Peter did not pause as he swept by and into the house.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it so happens, it was this phrase that I first wanted to add as part of the world-building flavor and the troublemaker that made me come up with 13 more to be consistent.

_“Lest we forget the beta’s necessity, one only need leave alpha and omega unattended.”_

Opening the door had been a mistake. The omega standing there shined like a newly minted penny. He was also just as stubborn as Vanessa, not once flinching at Wade’s face and pushing himself inside. From there, both burdensome omegas made themselves at home in Wade’s living room along with a well-dressed beta with an award-winning poker face.

Wade sat in a chair in the corner and glared murderously at all of them.

“I suppose someone should play a good host and make tea,” Vanessa announced.

“I don’t want—” Wade tried.

She gave him a withering look. “Talk to your guests.” With that, she stormed off to the kitchen, making an ungodly racket once out of sight.

He heaved a sigh and slouched in his chair, glaring at the empty hearth. “She’s shit at making tea, just so you know.”

In all honesty, Vanessa was shit at anything remotely considered homemaking. It wasn’t who she was. Wade had loved her for that, still did, if he were being truthful. He had no need for an omega who puttered around the house all day being boring. He wanted a mate who was feisty, had dreams and aspirations, and would fight anyone who told them no.

But Vanessa wasn’t his anymore — hadn’t been for a long time. Instead, he had this prim and proper omega sitting on his handmade couch, judging the whole house with judgey judgemental looks. Wade huffed in annoyance, drawing the deep copper eyes of the hoity-toity omega over to him.

“I’m sure there’re other options in your booklet of desperate alphas,” Wade said. He looked at the beta sitting on the other side of the couch. “You carry the catalog with you? May as well break it out now.”

The beta cleared his throat, passive face unchanging as he said, “Do you have someone you are courting that is blocking you from seeking other bond mate options?”

“Are you mocking me?” Wade growled.

“I’m simply trying to gain a full assessment of the situation.”

“What, you workin’ on commission?”

“Excuse me,” the omega cut in with a face that said he was beyond tired of the conversation. That made two of them. “Mate arrangements are quite normal this far out into the country, and—”

“For normal people.” Wade leaned forward so the light from various windows caught his face better. “Do I look normal to you?”

“Painfully so, yes.”

Wade gawked like he’d been slapped with a fish while the beta coughed to cover up what sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

“You are also acting the part of a brutish, belligerent alpha, and if that is what your self-induced solitude has exacerbated in you, then I understand Om. Carlysle’s concerns for your well-being.”

Wade spluttered indignantly, tripping over his own words in the face of such sheer _audacity._

“Since you seem to have lost the manners to do so, I shall take over introductions myself.” The omega waved to the placid beta. “This is Be. Phil Coulson, representative for the agency, and I am Om. Peter Parker, your expected omega mate. I am to assume that you _are_ , in fact, Al. Wade Wilson who is in want of a mate.”

“I’m in want of nothing!” Wade exploded, pounding his fist on the chair arm. “An alpha doesn’t need to bond with the first omega ass to go strolling by!”

“Though certainly, you are in _need_ of manners, ala,” Peter responded, and Wade swore the little shit’s nose could get no higher than it already was. “If a guest were to travel a week to see you, it is only courteous to treat them with some modicum of respect.”

“Respect?” Wade scoffed. “What respect has been shown to me, huh? I didn’t ask for this!”

“Be that as it may, it is still something that can be discussed between the two of us. What are your preferences in a mate? What are your aversions to not wanting one? What do you expect from an omega entering your household?”

“I have no obligation to tell you jack—”

“Tea’s ready!” Vanessa announced, walking back in with a serving tray that she always found though Wade had no idea where it was kept and it was _his_ house.

She set the tray on the coffee table and poured cups for everyone. The tension in the room swelled as they all took a moment to sip at lukewarm water lightly flavored with bits of tea leaves. Phil and Peter valiantly managed to control their reactions to the taste as Wade set his cup on an end table and ignored it. Vanessa settled herself on the couch between the two men, a bright spot of color in the otherwise earth-toned home.

“I do hope everyone’s getting along.” She tossed Wade a pointed look.

“Oh, the best of friends,” Wade drawled. “I was just telling Peter here that I prefer my privacy and like living alone in—”

“It’s been three years,” Vanessa snapped. “ _Three years_ of having ruts alone! You can’t keep this up. If you won’t court anyone, then you can enter into an arrangement, and that’s that.”

“You don’t get to dictate my life!”

“I believe,” Peter said before Vanessa could respond, “the point is that your body is dictating your life for you. I can’t imagine that you would work so hard to have such a nice home, farm, and animals if you have a death wish.”

“Don’t distract me with flattery!”

Peter’s eyebrows rose, Vanessa sighed, and Phil looked away as he slurped at his tea. Wade flushed and shifted in his chair. It wasn’t his fault that nobody had ever come to his farm that cared to compliment his hard work.

“What about you?” Wade challenged in an attempt to distract from his earlier statement. “You can’t possibly be happy in a scenario where _I’m_ the one you’re stuck with.”

“I entered into this arrangement of my own free will. I chose who I wanted to be with out of the offers given. I’m not _stuck_ with anyone.”

“Look at me!” Wade shouted, gesturing at his face and hands, the scarring damning him for what he was — shamed, unwanted, dirty.

“I am.” Peter met Wade’s eyes, unflinching.

“You didn’t sign up for this!”

“Your reprehensible behavior is the only strike against you that I have so far.”

“You really want people to point at you and name you as the mate who chose to marry the town deviant?”

“ _Wade_.” Vanessa glared, never having liked such rumors and attacking any who spoke ill of him in her presence.

But Peter was clearly from a high enough society where things like this mattered. The sudden hard grip around his teacup and drawing up of his shoulders was proof enough. No respectable company, or at least not the increasingly concerned looking Phil, would force Peter to marry an alpha who was quick to anger, shunned, and ugly. Even Vanessa held her breath, eyes cutting over to Peter to assess his reaction to Wade’s point.

Taking a steadying breath, Peter said, “I’m not so weak that weathering ill-educated comments is beyond me.”

Vanessa had a pleased smirk that she pressed into her sip of tea. Wade, however, began to laugh.

“You don’t believe me?” Peter asked.

“Oh, you see, I’ve finally figured you out.” Wade’s grin was not pretty. “The only reason you’re sitting here still agreeing to this nonsense is because you’ve already spent my money. You’re just a gold-digging tart who—”

Peter’s teacup landed on the table hard enough to rattle it. A fine crack shot through the white ceramic as Peter abruptly stood up, face flaming with rage. “I have had enough of your foul mouth!”

Wade stood up as well to square off with the thieving omega. “And I’ve had enough of people taking advantage of my wealth!”

Phil got to his feet and raised his hands. “Lest we forget the beta, I would like everyone to take a moment. Al. Wilson, you authorized Om. Carlysle to do business on your behalf. The price paid to Om. Parker was a contract signed, and he is allowed to do with it as he pleases.”

A derisive snort was Wade’s immediate reaction to such underhanded bullshit. “And how many alphas do you plan to pull this little charade with after me, hm? I’m sure there are plenty of pitiful alphas in homesteads just waiting to have their money stolen by an omega looking to slip through loopholes.”

Peter bristled, and his eyes were intense enough to set the entire house aflame. “Fine!” he bellowed. “I’ll leave for the west and lay down track until the end of my days. I’ll see your money returned, _with interest_ , and if you die before I finish, know that I’ll return it to your grave alongside my piss!”

Whirling around, Peter stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him and calling to the carriage driver. Wade tried to hold onto his anger but was more than a little stunned by the outburst. It wasn’t often he found an omega with Vanessa’s same temper and tenacity, yet there Peter was, promising to take a leak on Wade’s headstone.

Vanessa’s boots clicked across the floorboards and stopped abruptly before him. Wade caught her wrist on instinct before her palm could impact his face. It wasn’t the first time — and likely not the last — that he’d been slapped by her. He met her furious gaze with a frown.

“You deserve this one,” she said. “Call _me_ a trollop all you like, but I believed you to be a gentleman enough not to say that shit to others.”

“You’re not a trollop.”

“Neither is he.”

Wade heaved a sigh and let her go. He paced off a few steps in case she tried to break his nose next. “He’s a dramatic little shit.”

“That makes two of you.” She crossed her arms with a scowl. “Consider that it is not easy for someone to choose a life where they leave their family, friends, and home behind. I’m sure he has reasons to have taken this risk, and you dismissed all of them. He doesn’t care about your skin one whit, and you’re going to throw him back to the wolves of his past, and why? Because he’s not begging to sit on your cock upon first meeting like your past lovers?”

Phil made a strangled noise that they both ignored.

“Lovers who abandoned you when you grew sick, might I remind you,” Vanessa pushed.

“ _You_ didn’t leave,” Wade muttered.

“Not for lack of trying on your part.” She marched over to stand in his line of sight, moving again and again as he tried to turn away from her. “I did what you asked me to do.”

“Your parents never would have allowed you to accept my propos—”

“And you knew I didn’t care what they wanted. I did what _you_ asked. I am engaged to someone not nearly as wonderful as you are at _your_ insistence.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “You love him.”

“That’s irrelevant.” She waved her hand to bat the fact away. “I did what you demanded, now you are going to do what _I_ demand.” She pointed at the door. “Go talk to him. Now.”

Wade grumbled, but he did as he was told. _Maybe_ he’d gone a little too far, but surely Peter was good and pissed off enough to refuse any “arrangement” now. Stepping outside, he heard a commotion in the barn and headed that way. The two dogs were yapping up a storm, tugging at the poor carriage driver’s clothes to pull him from the stables. Wade snorted in amusement before whistling at them and sending them on their way.

The driver eyed the approaching alpha warily. Wade bared his teeth and jerked his head, which was all that was needed to send the beta running off. Ignoring the sting of pain at the fear his appearance now caused in others, Wade made his way into the barn.

The runaway omega was standing in front of a stall with what must have been the carriage’s horse. Perhaps Peter had intentions of taking care of the animal himself, but he was preoccupied with a wheezing cough that had him bent forward, one hand on the stable door in a death grip. Wade tsked and strode over, wrapping an arm around the trim waist and lifting.

Peter squawked in surprise before coughing harder. Wade set the other body against his hip firmly and walked them out of the hay and horsehair filled barn at a good clip. Once they were in clean air, Wade deposited Peter on a stack of old, leftover bricks that had been used as a makeshift bench since the house was built. Peter sucked in careful breaths of air in an attempt to still his coughing.

“You sick?” Wade asked.

“No,” Peter wheezed, rubbing at his watering eyes.

“Sure.” Wade propped his hands on his hips. “Sounds like a hacking cough to me.”

Peter closed his eyes and swallowed before replying, his voice tired, taking away the previously murderous bite from his words. “I had it six years ago. I assure you that I’m quite well.”

“Mhm. Can’t say I see those lungs holding out on you while laying down track.”

Peter glared at the grass under his feet. “What’s it matter to you?”

“How are you to pay me back if you're dead?”

“I won’t die!” Peter tried for incredulous but his coughing fit ruined the moment.

Wade sighed and plopped onto the bricks beside Peter, bracing his forearms on his knees as he stared out across fields surrounding them. “Look, you wanna be honest with me about why you’re here?”

Peter sat up a little taller once his cough was under control and stared straight ahead, his face flat and brooding. “I have one family member left, and I refuse to see her worked into an early grave after she gave up so much of her life to care for me.”

Well, that was a lot nobler than gambling debts. Wade felt kinda bad now. “I admit that I’m not great with people these days. I’ve only had to think about myself for a while now, not that I didn’t do a lot of that prior.” He wasn’t great at apologies either, but that would have to do.

Yellow came running over and pushed her head into Wade’s hands. He indulged her in the way she liked, scruffing her ears enough to have them flopping wildly around her head. Peter watched them from the corner of his eyes, looking somewhat bemused. Wade must have _really_ left a bad impression if petting a dog looked out of character.

“Tell me the truth,” Wade said while looking into Yellow’s dopey eyes. “Were you sent a picture of me? Of what I used to look like?”

Peter stuck his nose in the air. “You weren’t my type.”

Wade flinched hard enough he nearly fell off the bench. “Excuse you! I was _everyone’s_ type!”

“Yes, you looked like the kind of person who’d think that.” Peter ignored Wade’s spluttering as he smoothed his hands along his too-fancy coat. “I thought this was the kind of thing you’d want from a mate — someone with enough sense to navigate society.”

“I mean…” That was pretty accurate of the past, as Wade had coasted by on his good looks and the connections it got him. He was loath to admit that to Peter, however, as he sat there making _unkind assumptions._

“I’m not afraid of hard work,” Peter kept on. “I’m willing to pull my weight on such a homestead. I learn quickly, so you only need to show me what to do, and I will keep up. My coughing fits aren’t usually so bad. There must have been too much dust from the road.”

“You’re still talking like this is a good option. Didn’t you just promise to shit on my corpse?”

Peter wrinkled his nose in distaste but didn’t bother to address that comment. “In any case, this is a good solution. I am only a week’s travel from my aunt, and you are young. Most of the options further east were all old traditionalists who would have locked me in a den to do nothing more than provide a hoard of children. I have no interest in that kind of life.”

“Oh, so I’m the optimal choice between dying in the wild west or becoming a breed mare.”

Those molten eyes finally snapped back over to Wade, fury radiating from the omega’s slim frame. “I have done my best not to pass instant judgment upon your character, but you make that _incredibly_ difficult.”

Wade shrugged one shoulder. “So I’ve been told.”

“I believe I understand the reasons you are perpetually alone now.”

“Hey!” Wade sat up and puffed out his chest. “People liked me a lot before!”

“You’ve given me a lot of doubt,” Peter deadpanned.

Wade huffed. “You can’t expect me to be happy about going from being desired by the whole town to being mated with someone who is distraught to even look at me, much less touch me, and only here for the payment.”

To Wade’s utter shock and befuddlement, Peter gripped both of Wade’s cheeks in his palms and brought their faces close together in intense eye contact. “I am looking at you. I am touching you. I’m sorry that you have suffered through so much stigma regarding a painful disease that you managed to survive, but I am not so uneducated, and I would appreciate that you stop treating me as such.”

Big, strong, independent alphas that lived on their own and worked on farms did not, in fact, cry. Wade’s eyeballs were sneezing from all the hay. Obviously.

Peter’s soft thumbs brushed across Wade’s cheekbones, wiping away the wetness as if it had never happened. “If you are averse to marrying a stranger, then let us talk and learn about one another. I will let you know if I come across some grievance I cannot tolerate.”

“You’re so stubborn,” Wade muttered.

“Speak for yourself.”

Not that Wade minded. He hated simpering omegas with no backbone. It was why he’d loved Vanessa so much. He’d thought her unique, but perhaps it was only due to how few people populated their region. Were all city-bred omegas like Peter? Or was Peter special as well? Wade supposed he would just have to strike up conversation and figure that out himself.


	4. Chapter 4

_“Those in the fields must continue their pursuits, lest by neglecting the proper operations their bounty be lost.”_

It was hours before they made their way back to the house. Peter was somewhat surprised that they’d not been interrupted, but he had a feeling that Vanessa was behind it. Well, it worked out, in the end.

Upon entering the threshold, they were met with an anticipatory silence. Wade shifted his weight uncomfortably under the expectant stares of the others in the room. Even the carriage driver appeared quite invested in the final decision.

“So how does this work, exactly?” Wade asked, voice gruff and clipped.

Phil’s eyes cut to Peter who nodded confidently. He didn’t blame the beta for being cautious after everything that had transpired. However, his concerns had been laid to rest once he had a better understanding of Wade’s protective barrier to prejudice.

Wade hated himself and thus mistrusted any who might claim the opposite — not that he’d said such in as many words. Peter was good at reading people, and he knew something like this would take time and work to overcome, but he was willing to put in the effort. For all that Wade was an immovable object, Peter was an unstoppable force once he’d set his mind to something.

“Right.” Phil stood from the couch, his unassuming smile settling onto his face. “Part of my job is to be a wedding officiant. I have all the documentation with me, and there are two witnesses, so we have everything we need.”

“Great.” Wade offered a fake smile in return. “So we can hurry this up and then all of you can leave my house.”

Vanessa sighed disapprovingly at Wade’s behavior but didn’t argue with him. She looked tired. Peter couldn’t blame her. This day had worn him out in more ways than one.

There was little fanfare to the whole process. Be. Coulson read some words, Peter and Wade formally agreed to their mated status going forward, and then signed the documents in the appropriate places. Once the witnesses signed their parts, it was all done. For such a long, nerve-wracking trip and dramatic start to officially meeting the alpha Peter had agreed to wed, the process of doing so was rather anticlimactic.

Peter’s luggage was at last moved inside and carried upstairs. Vanessa was all smiles and well wishes, back to her charming, chatty self, full of perfect pleasantries. She kissed them both on the cheeks and wished them luck, pausing only long enough to inform Peter of where Wade’s telephone was and how to ring her if he needed anything.

He saw the carriage off while standing on the front porch trying to stuff down the riot of butterflies growing in his stomach. After staring at the quiet, extensive fields around him for a touch too long, he made his way back inside, removing his hat and coat to hang up at last. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and hoped it didn’t look as terrible as it usually did after wearing a hat for so long.

“I think I like you better without all the fancy adornments,” Wade said, watching from across the room.

“I don’t wear fashionable things just to please you alone,” Peter immediately replied out of habit, despite evidence to the contrary for once in his life. “Though I imagine you’ll be seeing me dressed down more often than not, all considering.”

Wade smirked. “I imagine I will.” He made his way over to the kitchen. “If you want to explore the house and unpack, feel free. I need to finish making bread and then get started on the chores.”

“I thought this was your rest day.”

“Ha! This is what a rest day looks like, lest the bounty be lost. Animals need tending to every day, and a man’s got to eat at some point.”

“Then I will join you on the farm later. If you teach me how to tend to the daily chores, it will help with the workload.”

Wade paused in his movements, though he didn’t turn around. “Sure.”

There was an awkward, stretched silence. It made sense that things were uncomfortable between them. They were strangers set to share a home from here on out. Once they were used to one another, then Wade would be better able to share his space and Peter would not feel like such an outsider. For now, they would just have to push through it and allow time to do its work.

“Then I’ll head upstairs for now,” Peter said, receiving only an acknowledging grunt in return.

 _It will get better,_ Peter told himself. _It can only get better from here._

☙☀❧

It was easy to fall into a routine on a farm. Life started at dawn with sunlight peeking through the curtains. From there, the chickens and goats were fed, then eggs and milk collected. As belligerent as the chickens were to Wade, they didn’t mind Peter at all, and he found that he rather liked them. He began giving them names in his head before he realized it. The goats, however, loved to knock Peter over, and learning to milk them had been a pain.

After the early morning animal wrangling, Peter headed back to the house to cook breakfast while Wade managed the rest of the animals. They would eat together, sharing somewhat stilted small talk, and decide what to do with the milk. Peter learned how to make yogurt, butter, and cheese himself, which was honestly a task he liked more than expected. Now that Wade had help, it was easier to make a wider variety of options for the day.

Then, Wade would tend to the fields with Arthur the horse, the only animal Wade had truly put thought into naming, while Peter spent his morning caring for the smaller — but still big by his city standards — garden. Wade had provided many helpful hints and walked Peter through the basics the first week, so Peter felt confident in his ability to manage things on his own now.

It was back-breaking work to pull weeds, search for unruly stems to trim, fertilize, and guarantee that every plant was getting enough water. The worst part was having to catch rodents he spotted digging for root vegetables. The dogs would always come running to finish things off when Peter and whatever creature he caught simultaneously screeched.

He did his best not to feel guilty afterward as the dogs tore into their meal.

When the sun was high, Peter would head inside to make a light lunch to carry out to Wade. The first time he’d done that, Wade had insisted it wasn’t needed, but Peter had scolded Wade about how food was supremely important when working fields alone. Wade stopped arguing after that and would sit down obediently to eat his food and suck down the entire kettle of water Peter would bring.

The afternoons were filled with Peter feeding and watering the animals before heading inside to cook and clean the day’s dishes. Thankfully, Wade had a water pump and basin set directly in the kitchen. It was convenient, and Peter was always happy to see it. He’d read that most farms had to haul water from a single outdoor spigot. Of course, he’d also read that most farms had smaller homes and were located days away from towns and weeks from railroad stations.

Wade’s wealth showed in the little things.

In the evening, they would eat together at the table once more. Wade would discuss things that Peter would need to learn in the future, such as canning and pickling to extend the life of vegetables the garden grew. Eventually, Wade expected Peter to deal with catching and butchering one of the chickens, ducks, or rabbits from the pens on his own. Peter always promised, swearing he wasn’t squeamish about it, but they both knew it was a lie.

When the hour grew late, Peter would sit by a lantern to read while Wade set about small tasks. He refused all help, claiming that he preferred to keep his hands busy. So for the rest of the night, he’d mend clothes, clean boots, sew a patch onto a half-done quilt, weave wire for a coop, or whittle. He would hum to himself while he did so, and Peter found himself grateful for that. The country was quiet, only the distant sounds of howling, shrieking, or lowing animals to break the still air, and it was hard to get used to. Peter was accustomed to the constant background din of city life.

Still, he told himself to be grateful for what he had here and distracted himself with whatever he could get his hands on. It might be in his best interest to think about saving up for new books sooner rather than later. As it was, Wade wasn’t much of a conversationalist, so written words would have to do for mental stimulation.

And then, once the moon was high and the stars filled the sky, it was time to turn in.

They shared a bed upstairs in Wade’s sparsely furnished room with a good six inches of space between them. Peter was used to sleeping alone, so in truth, he felt rather cramped. Perhaps Wade did as well. Throughout the night, Peter would wake to shuffling movements and stare about him in confusion, always taking a few seconds to recognize where he was.

 _I don’t regret this decision,_ he would tell himself firmly before closing his eyes and rolling to his side. Warm, deep breaths were a steady cadence behind his back, the room filled to the brim with the smell of alpha. It encased him with a near physical weight, though the only thing pressed to his skin were his nightclothes and the large quilt.

Wade never connected that six inches of space between them, not even while sleeping.

 _This is better than being accosted at all hours when you should be getting rest,_ Peter would tell himself every night as he gazed around the dark and unfamiliar room that did not smell like his family. _This is what you wanted._

_I don’t regret it._

Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye. Peter let himself be absorbed in the routine that was only broken up on days laundry had to be washed. He enjoyed the smell of sun on the sheets, which made restless nights a bit more bearable. His efforts around the house and farm also allowed for Wade to finish at a reasonable time and actually sit down on his rest days. They’d spend time on the big porch watching the sunset in companionable silence.

 _It’s peaceful here,_ Peter would think, breathing deeply of the clean country air. _I don’t regret leaving the city._

Another week rolled by, and Peter discovered little quirks about Wade. The man truly didn’t socialize much and tended to talk to his dogs and horse far more than he talked to anyone, including his mate. Peter found himself, time and again, sneaking up on Wade, listening in on whatever rambling, one-sided conversation he was having. There was a lot to learn.

The new quilt Wade was working on was causing him a lot of anxiety. He’d had a plan for it but was unsure if Peter would care for the pattern and colors. Arthur whinnied and Wade cursed in return.

“I’m not _afraid_ of asking him!” Wade argued. “He probably doesn’t even care and’ll tell me to do what I want. It’s like he’s afraid of giving me his opinion!”

Wade’s assumption that Peter was wary of his new alpha was a fairly common theme. Even the goats would get an earful in the evenings about how Peter didn’t like touching Wade, or Peter thought he had to be demure and silent around Wade. It angered Peter, mostly because he tried so hard to strike up conversation but Wade always cut himself off. Why could Wade prattle on to the animals and not Peter?

 _Maybe he’s worried I’ll find him annoying,_ Peter considered. _The animals often do since he never runs out of words. I should ask Vanessa the next time I see her._

Another day, Peter caught Wade talking to the dogs as he tossed down hay in one of the barns. It became clear that Wade had preferences on how certain vegetables were cooked, or which tasted better pickled rather than fresh. He liked his bread a little wider than Peter usually rolled it. He was mad that some of the chickens didn’t peck Peter but would chase Wade with murderous intent. He was afraid of admitting to a “city slicker” that he liked to pour bacon fat on his greens.

He had never told Peter any of this. His reasoning, as he said to White one day, “Well, I don’t want to discourage him when he’s working so hard!”

White pranced back and forth from paw to paw, grumbling noises like he was trying to mimic how Wade talked. Peter ducked back behind the side of the barn so he wouldn’t be seen, a pail full of food scraps clutched in his hands. It was silly for Wade not to say anything. Everyone had preferences. It wasn’t like Peter would take offense to such a small comment.

A low whine that ended in a yawn indicated that Yellow was begging for attention. Wade ignored her as he grunted. The soft thunk of hay sounded from one of the stalls.

“Don’t give me that look,” Wade snapped after a moment. “It was an accident!”

Peter peeked around the corner again to see Wade aggressively stab a stack of hay while Yellow flopped her head to the side and whined.

“Fine, the first time was an accident. But how am I supposed to _not look_? I swear he’s doing it on purpose, dumping that whole bucket of water on his head.”

Peter felt a flutter of something in his stomach. He knew what that referred to. After his outdoor chores finished for the day, Peter would clean himself of sweat before going inside. Wade had a mudroom, sure, but it was getting hotter and there was nobody around, so Peter would just pump some water outdoors and rinse off. It was much faster than spending time with a rag and washbasin in the house.

He hadn’t realized that Wade was watching.

Turning abruptly, Peter made his way over to the pens to feed the chickens and ducks. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. Peter and Wade were mated. If a mated alpha wasn’t looking at his omega with interest, then there was certainly something wrong. Also, it wasn’t like Peter was new to this. He’d had relationships in the past.

Peter tossed a handful of wilted cabbage at the chickens around him, for once distracted rather than quick and efficient in his chores. His heat would come eventually, and with it, Wade’s rut. That was the whole point of Peter being here in the first place. Truly, they should be attempting more amorous acts between them now while their minds were clear rather than waiting on their bodies to take over.

Now, after hearing what he had, Peter could admit he’d been a tiny bit afraid that Wade had never found Peter physically attractive. Though he wanted to say that it didn’t bother him, it was a vain relief to know that wasn’t the case. But then, if Wade was watching Peter to the point of distraction, then why hadn’t he acted upon those urges?

There were two options that Peter could think of. One, Wade was being polite and giving Peter time to grow accustomed to his new life before delving into matters of the flesh. Or two, and far more likely, Wade assumed Peter was uninterested due to his appearance. Peter frowned to himself as the hard butt of a cabbage slipped between his lax fingers and directly onto Henrietta’s head. She clucked at him and pecked his boot for the offense.

Well, if the blame lay with Wade’s insecurity and Peter’s unsure silence, then there was a simple solution. Peter would breach the topic first. After all, it was best to prepare for his heat with plenty of time to spare. They would need supplies and a temporary worker to care for the farm during the days they could not. Perhaps the conversation would open the doors to further discussion of intimacy between them.

Mind made up, Peter focused his attention back on the day’s chores. He would put off any further wandering thoughts until after he broached the topic at supper.


	5. Chapter 5

_“Seven years would be insufficient to make some mates intimately knowing of each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.”_

Wade’s pasta noodle landed back into his bowl with a splat. Peter had gone through the extra effort of making some thick pasta to pair with a cheesy cream sauce and a chopped up strip of rabbit meat Wade had prepared. There were also fresh biscuits on the table with butter melting in them and some set aside for gravy in the morning. Wade hadn’t thought much about it when he’d joined Peter to help finish the cooking that evening, as the distraction of pasta had thoroughly claimed his thoughts.

Now, Peter was staring expectantly at Wade’s gaping mouth. Wade could feel a warm smear of sauce dripping down his chin as the silence stretched between them. He yelled at himself to move and sat up a little too fast before wiping his mouth clean, eyes darting around the room.

“Ah, well, the omega den is upstairs,” Wade managed to get out.

Peter continued to be impossibly calm and collected. “Yes, but I need more than a den to prepare for my heat. There are not enough nesting materials here, and canning season is still a ways off, so food preparation is a concern. I usually start in late spring and another in late autumn. I would feel more at ease if there were some quick meals we could have on hand. And I assume you have someone who has assisted you on the farm for your previous ruts, so it’s courtesy to give notice of when my heat is due so whoever it is can plan around that.”

“Clint,” Wade murmured before clearing his throat and pushing his voice a little louder. “Ah, that is, Clint will purchase things in town for me and does odd jobs around multiple farms in the area.”

“Oh good. Well, it would be important for me to meet him as soon as possible so I am not taken by surprise if I catch his scent during my heat.”

Why was Peter so calm about this? It was like he’d done it before! Wade immediately admonished himself. Of course Peter had dealt with his heat before. He wasn’t young, nor a virgin, and had been courted previously. He knew precisely what he needed. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Wade knew none of that.

He’d been with plenty of people before, had been serious about Vanessa, but being with an omega during their heat while unmated was asking for trouble. Wade hadn’t been interested in the town shaming him for knocking up omegas he didn’t intend to devote his life to, so he’d stayed far away when the time rolled around for any of them. Certainly, the rumors going around claimed he was the person to go to when an omega needed a heat partner, but the reality was that Wade never took that risk.

Then he’d gotten sick and every omega in the area kept ten feet away from him at all times.

Wade had no idea what to do with an omega in heat and no desire to admit his naivety. What kind of alpha had never bothered to stop and learn about something so important? Playboy Wade, that’s who. Peter was going to be _so_ disappointed…

“Then I should go with Clint,” Peter said.

“What?” Wade squawked. “He’s a beta!”

Peter tilted his head slightly, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Good to know? As I was saying, I should go with Clint into town during his next trip to pick up necessities. I was told there’s a shop that will have what I need.”

Right, of course, Peter wasn’t a mind reader and wasn’t thinking about sharing his heat with someone else. Wade needed to get a grip. “Ah, sure, just, uh, make a list. And I’ll give you my list. And the money.”

Peter nodded before taking a delicate bite of his pasta. “When will the next trip be?”

Wade rubbed at his temple. “Um, next week? I think. Soon.”

“Good.”

Silence.

Peter continued eating as if they weren’t discussing a three to six day long sex marathon that had a high chance of producing children. They hadn’t even kissed yet. _Kiss? Why would we kiss when he hasn’t touched me since the day he arrived?_

The pasta suddenly looked unappetizing, but not eating it wouldn’t put points in his favor. He stuck his fork into the bowl and dejectedly spun another noodle into place. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted an omega in the first place. Peter had seemed so genuine that first day, brazenly touching Wade’s skin and kicking away the stifling judgements that clung to Wade’s back. But since then, nothing had happened.

_Of course nothing’s happened. What did you really expect?_

“Wade?”

“Hm?” He didn’t lift his eyes from the bowl as he filled his mouth methodically with food.

“I know you prefer your chair, but I think it’s best that you sit with me on the couch tonight.”

Wade froze mid-chew. “What?” Bits of white sauce went flying. Peter frowned at the mess, immediately snatching up his napkin to wipe the table, though he didn’t admonish Wade for it.

“I don’t believe our bond is steady enough at the moment to have a comfortable heat, wouldn’t you agree? Physical closeness is important for these matters, so I’d prefer it if we spent more time in proximity.”

An unintelligible noise fell from his lips as he looked up, meeting Peter’s steady copper eyes and expectantly raised eyebrows. Wade swallowed his mouthful of half-chewed pasta and tried not to choke. “Right, yeah, makes sense.”

“Good.” Peter picked up a biscuit and pulled it apart, the smell of warm bread filling the air between them. “I’m glad that’s settled.”

“Yes. Glad.”

Wade turned back to his supper and did his best to act even a modicum as mature about this as his mate was. Why was he acting like a green schoolboy who’d never gotten his dick wet? He was experienced at sex, damn it! Just because he’d been out the world for a few years was no excuse to revert back to some gobsmacked virgin.

_Your experience is all with desperate country betas and omegas that never had an alpha who knew how to kiss right, much less go down on them. Think about all the depraved things city omegas must get into!_

Wade snuck a look up at Peter’s inscrutable face. Shit. Sure, Wade had been with a lot of people, but it was clear that between the two of them, Peter was the more experienced. This whole “getting a mate” idea could not possibly get any worse.

☙☀❧

Peter lamented the need to wear his copper coat when he knew the weather would be stifling by noon, but he wanted to make a good impression. This would be his first trip to the local town. He should take the opportunity to make connections and perhaps find an omega friend or two. He missed having tea with Mary Jane, the two of them complaining about the annoying people in their lives and sharing news articles they’d found interesting.

He didn’t expect there to be many newspaper clippings to discuss in such a rural area, but surely there was something of interest happening. The locals would know.

In the morning, Peter rushed through helping with the animals before making a quick breakfast. He and Wade had barely finished before the dogs were barking at the arrival of someone to the farm. Peter found himself strangely nervous. He was usually good at meeting new people and exploring new places, but a month alone with no one but his mate for company left him feeling strange in his own skin. How had Wade handled this isolation for years?

“You’ve still got plenty of time to get dressed,” Wade said as he watched Peter rush through the house. “The dogs are more of an early warning system.”

“I just want to make sure I have everything,” Peter replied as he triple checked all he was taking with him, securing the money he’d been given into the inside pocket of his coat. “Do you think I should wear a hat?”

“I like your hair.”

Peter stopped dead and turned to his mate, but Wade had already moved to look out the window, shoulders stiff. It was so rare for him to give compliments or say anything that would imply he was interested. At night, he would flinch if their elbows touched on the couch. If Peter hadn’t overheard certain conversations, he would still assume that Wade was somehow repulsed at the mere sight of his omega.

 _Why are you acting so shy?_ Peter thought but knew better than to say aloud. “Well, as long as the road doesn’t kick up too much dust, it should be fine.”

“There will be plenty of grass to hold it down by this point,” Wade mumbled in response, still not meeting Peter’s eye.

 _We’re getting nowhere at this rate,_ Peter groused to himself. He was on his way to buy supplies for his heat, yet they were acting like bashful children! Straightening his back, he walked over and wrapped his arms around one of Wade’s, digging his fingers in when the alpha instinctively flinched back. Peter slapped on a charming smile as if he didn’t notice Wade’s wide eyes. “Properly introduce me to your friend, please.”

“Ah, um, yeah, sure.” Wade swallowed hard, the apple of his throat bobbing. “Let’s do that.”

Peter guided them out onto the front porch. Coming up the drive was a wagon, pulled by two mules and filled with a few bags of items and stacks of raw wood. The dogs were making laps around the wagon, but the mules appeared used to the noise and unbothered by their antics. The driver had a shock of blonde hair that trailed down into a scruff of unkempt facial hair that wasn’t quite a beard. The man looked rough, weathered, and tired, but his smile was genuine when he lifted a hand to wave at them.

Wade put up a hand as well, some of the tension in him easing. Peter was glad to know that at least one person other than Vanessa could truly be called Wade’s friend.

Clint stopped the cart a good ways away so that it could be unloaded. He paused to ruffle the ears of the dogs cycloning around his feet before jogging over to the porch with a grin. He stuck his hand out before Wade could even attempt a proper introduction, so Peter took it. “Clint Barton,” the man said, his diction curiously muffled.

“Peter Parker-Wilson.”

Clint’s pale eyebrows shot up before he turned to look at a not-so-subtly scowling Wade. “I heard from Vanessa—” he cut off as Wade pulled his arm away from Peter before gesturing aggressively, something Clint responded to in kind.

“Oh!” Peter said. “[Martha's Vineyard](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martha%27s_Vineyard_Sign_Language)!”

Both Clint and Wade turned to Peter with wide, stunned eyes. Wade recovered first, spluttering, “Why in the world would you know that?”

Peter frowned in response, his chin lifting slightly in an old habit he’d gained back when people talked down to him due to his lower-class status. “There was an educational essay released on it. There’s been talk among the universities to turn the hand signs into a full language. The school of the deaf in Hartford have already used it to great effect.”

As Wade gawked, Clint perked up with a wide grin. “Do you know any?” he asked with accompanying gestures.

“I do not, but I would love to learn.”

Clint laughed and slapped the back of his hand against Wade’s chest hard enough to earn pained “oof!” in response. “I like him. Vanessa sure knows how to pick ‘em.”

Wade rubbed his chest with a frown. “All the same, I’d rather Vanessa kept her nose out of my business.”

“Then you’d be dead.” Clint shrugged before winking at Peter. “But now you’re here to keep him in line. Makes me happy.”

Peter smiled in return. “He’s quite the handful.”

“Hey!” Wade complained as Clint laughed.

“Come on.” Clint waved his hand at Wade. “Help me unload so we can get on the road. The Robertsons sent you some excess turnips, by the way.”

As the two went off to handle that, Peter checked again that he had the lists he needed and the money to purchase everything with. Then he donned his boots and ran a brush over them to make sure they were clean even though they’d likely be dull with dust by the time they arrived in town. Taking a deep breath, Peter smoothed his hands along his outfit before striding to the door.

Automatically, he lifted his fingers to the hat hanging from the coat rack. He paused, eyes flitting across the glass gems and feathers. _“I like your hair.”_ Peter pursed his lips. It was silly not to wear a hat over something so trivial. As he said the first day, he did not dress himself simply to please alphas. _It’s somewhat cloudy today,_ he reasoned. _Not much point in wearing a hat. Besides, I should save my good hat for special occasions rather than getting it dirty on the road for a shopping trip._

Dropping his hand, Peter made his way outside.

The two men were finishing unloading the wood, so Peter went and greeted the mules, smiling as they snuffled at his coat in search of treats. Wade was sweating by the time they unloaded the last of the lumber. Peter’s eyes lingered overlong on the bulging muscles of Wade’s arms as they shimmered in the morning light.

“We should be back in time for supper,” Clint said.

Wade grunted in response as he grabbed the bags full of vegetables before walking up to Peter. “You have enough money to get lunch, if you want.”

“I appreciate that.”

There was an awkward pause between the two of them. This was new territory. Neither had left the farm for any significant amount of time since they were officially mated. They didn’t know what to say. Wade’s mouth wobbled as if he was fighting not to frown while Peter folded his hands together, squeezing his fingers too hard, his back ramrod straight. Clint leaned against the other side of the wagon and grinned at them both with undisguised amusement.

“Uh, well…” Wade cleared his throat. “Have a safe trip and all that.”

“Don’t overwork yourself on the farm,” Peter replied.

Wade huffed an amused breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Sure.”

Peter tilted his head up and to the side, clearly presenting his cheek. Wade’s eyes went wide — Clint’s eyes sparkled as he leaned forward for the show. Wade shifted his weight from foot to foot, blue eyes darting around long enough for the urge to abandon the request to swell up in Peter. His chin began to lower, which broke Wade of his panicked hesitation.

He surged forward and dropped a kiss on Peter’s cheek as fleeting as a hummingbird.

“There it is!” Clint announced, overly loud and with great humor, setting the dogs to barking and the mules baying in response.

Wade walked away with an uncharacteristic swiftness, head bowed, the back of his neck darkening like a newly laid sunburn. It was silly to get so worked up. They were grown men. Peter placed a hand over his stomach and demanded the butterflies there to vacate the premises.

Taking a deep breath, Peter turned away from his alpha’s back and climbed onto the bench of the wagon. “It’s best we’re off.”

Clint was grinning wide enough to split his face as he dropped onto the seat next to Peter and picked up the reins. With that, they turned to the long, empty road that would lead them into town.

☙☀❧

“I’m going to take care of the mules and give them a break while we’re in town,” Clint said as he jumped down from the wagon. “Tell any shops you visit to hold the items for me. I’ll pick it all up right before we head out.”

“Thank you,” Peter said with the accompanying sign. It earned him a wide grin from Clint.

The trip had been nice, and Clint was friendly with a wry sense of humor. He’d taught Peter a handful of useful signs along with two rude ones. There had been a flash of disappointment when Peter hadn’t been scandalized by it. Clint must have assumed that Peter was proper and sheltered due to his appearance. He was anything but. He’d returned the lesson with a few bawdy jokes he’d picked up over the years that had Clint doubled over and wheezing.

The ride had been a much-needed way to ease Peter back into the rhythm of talking to new people after a month of only speaking to Wade — and even that was sparse in the best of times. This outing into town would be good for him. If he reacquainted himself with how to normally converse with others, then perhaps it would make it easier to pull Wade out of his shell.

Peter walked down the hard-packed road that cut through the middle of a variety of buildings and shops. He could not see the entire town from one end to the other where he stood, but it was a near thing. Had it not been for the often unnerving quiet of the farmhouse, Peter would certainly never have called the street loud and bustling when he had grown up with much worse. Still, there was plenty of life to be seen.

Stores had their doors and windows open, some of them spilling out music played from phonographs, which Peter was admittedly surprised to hear this far out in the country. Of course, there were large mansions and a few plantations nearby that used the city for trade, seeing as how it was so close to the tracks. Those well off in society were, perhaps, not in abundance, but their presence was known.

The people of the town were curious to see a new face, many tipping their hats with a friendly greeting, and a few calling out to Peter for a longer introduction. They did not ask prying questions — at least, not yet. Instead, they provided answers to Peter’s inquiries through thinly veiled gossip. It reminded Peter of Vanessa.

“The Carlysles are out and about today,” a beta said, hands brushing dust from her simple dress. She was likely thinking of the frills, silks, and colors that she could not afford to wear. Peter could absolutely relate to that. “I imagine they’re letting their daughter get as much sun as possible before her alpha-to-be keeps her locked up in a den. You mustn’t blame him, dear, that omega of his would give birth running if it meant she could chase her fancies.”

“Now Beth,” drawled an older omega. “No need bein’ jealous of youth.”

“Jealous! I say not. I am merely pointing out—”

“I remember that time at fifteen when you snuck down to the lake with—”

“Shut your mouth!”

Listening to the circle of bickering betas and omegas meant learning a lot of names but not so many faces. Occasionally, they would plow into a story deemed too scandalous to remember, though every detail was related with dramatic flare. More than once, “that Wilson boy” was a prominent figure in those tales.

“And this Al. Wilson truly stole an entire barrel of moonshine?” Peter asked.

“Not just him!” he was informed. “There were a good five troublemakers at the time, all of them alphas with far too much time and money on their hands, if you ask me.”

“They’ve all grown into fine people,” a soft-spoken beta admonished.

“I’d argue that!” another huffed.

It was amazing to Peter how Wade weaved in and out of tales told by the townsfolk. A small town meant everyone knowing everyone, which was an unusual feeling. Getting lost in the crowd was no longer an option. Peter wondered what stories others planned to tell of him. They’d likely be exaggerated and stretched for entertainment purposes, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

 _I’d better get used to it now,_ he thought to himself. _Perhaps I can ask about the truth behind some of Wade’s supposed midnight capers tonight._

There was so much to know about Wade, yet all Peter learned happened in a trickle of information. It was as if he could spend a lifetime trying to discover who his alpha truly was. Had it ever been this hard to become acquainted with someone before? _Seven years would be insufficient to some,_ he mused, somewhat begrudgingly. _Then again, if he would talk to me like he talks to the animals, then seven days would surely be enough._

At last, Peter came upon the store he needed. It was not hard to spot. The storefront declared it to be named “Fair Necessities” and a variety of pillows filled the windows with banners declaring their levels of softness. A wind chime tinkled as a gust of wind from the opening door rustled it. No sooner had the door closed than Peter was engulfed with the cloying smell of incense commonly marketed for being relaxing to the omega in preheat. Peter had personally found the stuff pointless to spend money on.

“Goodness me, you must be new in town.” From the shelves bustled an older woman with a thick accent, her greying hair bundled atop her head. “Don’t you look charming? Come in, come in. What can I help you with?”

Peter smiled. “I’m afraid I need all the essentials for my heat. I’ve just moved and find myself with nothing to spare.”

“Well, that won’t do at all!” the woman said. “We’ll get you set up, no worries, no worries. Momma Frigga will help.”

“Stop telling everyone you’re their mother!” came a muffled shout from the back of the store.

“Don’t mind my son,” Frigga said with a smile. “He’s going through a _phase_ ,” she whispered conspiratorially. “Where did you move to so suddenly around here?”

“A farm half a day to the south,” Peter replied as he let himself be herded through the store.

“Oh! Those big farms are such hard work. Let’s get you set up with all the luxuries. You deserve the break your heat will give you, that’s for certain.”

They passed through rows of bed linens before arriving at an entire wall filled with pillows. A cart was set before it with stacks of pillowcases in various muted or deep colors meant to set the precise mood the omega wanted in their den. Peter ran his fingers over the fabrics, all of them soft, and some far more expensive than necessary.

“Now, all the pillows can be sewn up in whatever style and color you fancy. Feel free to hug them as you please to find the right soft to firm ratio you’re needing.”

“How long to have them sewn? We planned to leave within a few hours.”

“Perfectly doable!” Frigga said with a bright smile. “My son will help. He has fast fingers.”

“Stop saying it like that!” came a shout from the back followed by a disgusted noise.

Peter bit back a laugh as he stepped up to the wall of fluff. “Then I’ll do my best to select things quickly. I also have a preference for stuffed comforters. Do you have any that are affordable?”

“No worries, dear,” Frigga assured. “We have the biggest selection within 60 miles. I guarantee you’ll find what you’re needing.”

Picking up one of the pillows, Peter squished it in his hands, the stuffed down feathers shifting around easily. He liked the soft ones, but he had to control the urge to buy too many. Practically, he needed sturdier pillows to prop himself up on. There was also the matter of making sure they stayed in place while he—

An image popped into his mind of Wade’s rough, calloused hands running along his sides, settling him into place atop the wall of his nest, a soft comforter bunching beneath him like a second embrace. His hips lifted, arms wrapping tight around the soft down pillow as light kisses trailed down the knobs of his spine…

Blinking rapidly, Peter sucked in a deep breath and forced his thoughts into the present and onto more pragmatic matters. He deliberately released his grip on the pillow and handed it to Frigga with a careful smile. “I’ll take two of these to start.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus sketch of the water bucket because Peter needs some cooling off. hehe
> 
> Martha’s Vineyard Sign Language was one of the first complete languages of hand signs that was widely used. It was incredibly influential in the formation of modern ASL. The story behind it is pretty interesting and I suggest a quick look over the wiki page if you’re interested!


	6. Chapter 6

_“Amongst a sea of people, there is but a solitude for the shunned.”_

The local tavern was large and well kept. There was an upstairs room for those of high enough social standing to gather there and a stage on the main floor for entertainment. Currently, there was a small band playing for tips. A few patrons, already drunk, were dancing around to the cheers of a small crowd. The whole place was unabashedly lively.

Peter made his way over to the bartender. “I’m told you hold the mail here?” he asked.

“That I do,” said the scruffy-looking man behind the counter without looking up. “Yer name?”

“Peter Parker.” He didn’t expect to have any mail for him under his mated name, if he had any waiting at all.

“Bob!” the bartender shouted like a whip crack.

A moment later, a man stumbled through the door that led to the back, eyes wide and hair in disarray, a smudge of dirt on his nose. “Yes, Weasel, eba.”

“See if there’s mail for Peter Piper.”

“Parker,” Peter corrected.

Bob’s eyes widened on Peter, doing an up and down. “Yes, oma.” Turning on his toe, he ran off.

For the first time, Weasel looked up at his patron. His eyes trailed down Peter as well, but slower, and with an assessing gaze. It was not the kind of lascivious look given to omegas by those who did not know manners; rather, it was a look of a merchant approximating wealth. Weasel was determining how much he could convince Peter to spend and the best way to go about it. The reasoning behind the man’s nickname was quickly becoming apparent.

“We still have lunch available,” Weasel said at last. “Free with the purchase of a drink. I’ll have Bob deliver it upstairs if you’d prefer quieter entertainment.” Then, as an afterthought, “Oma.”

“I’ll have some rum, then, thank you,” Peter said with a tight smile. He didn’t wait for a response, just turned and made his way over to the stairs. The music on the ground floor had been rather intriguing, and he’d intended to stay, but now he didn’t like the idea of Weasel watching him. So, he kept his back straight and chin high as he made his way up a level and ignored the curious looks of the patrons below.

Thankfully, the room Peter entered was not crowded with busybodies that possessed too much money and time on their hands. There was a group of what looked to be betas in the corner deeply invested in a conversation on finance. An obviously alpha-omega pair were flirting unabashedly over their drinks near the banister. Sitting off to the side was a worker who was reading the paper aloud. It would be nice to hear about current events, and that lifted Peter’s mood considerably.

He made his way over to a seat beside a wall of framed pictures and articles. He didn’t yet pull out a chair, but allowed the collection of photos to entertain him as he waited. He recognized a few faces, monochrome and younger, but clearly the same townsfolk he had spoken with earlier. He even saw Frigga standing in front of her store on the day it opened, two children hugged tight to either side of her. The frowning, dark-haired boy must have been the same son in the shop. It made Peter smile.

“Yer food, oma.”

Peter looked over to see Bob setting a tray down on the table near Peter. It was simple fare, but it smelled delicious. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be checkin’ for yer mail next, oma. It may take a bit.”

“That’s fine.” Peter handed over a coin for the meal. Bob took it with a few too many nods and mumbled words before running off.

The rum was clearly watered down, but Peter didn’t complain. It had been some time since he’d had anything strong, and he didn’t care to get too tipsy on his first day meeting the locals. The food was not only decent but made him realize how hungry he was. He’d nearly cleared his plate by the time his eyes caught on a familiar face in the cluster of frames.

He stood up at once, intent on the black and white image of four men and one brawny woman, all big enough to be alphas, grinning at the camera in front of some unknown building. Second to the left was a charming face Peter knew from the picture he’d been sent months ago. It was Wade, handsome and clear-skinned, dressed in a fine suit, eyes gleaming with mischief. He had an arm around the shoulders of those on either side of him. The group must have been the same one from all the stories Peter had heard throughout the day.

What had happened to the close group of friends Wade once had? Did they all abandon him when he fell ill? Peter lifted his hand and ran a finger lightly over the confident, happy person he didn’t know.

“No use fallin’ fer that one, oma.” Bob’s voice startled Peter, and the man ducked his head with a bashful smile. “Sorry, sorry, but that there is Al. Wade Wilson.”

“I’ve been given stories of him today,” Peter replied, folding his hands in front of him. “I heard he was a wild sort, him and his friends.”

“That he was.” Bob laughed as he handed over two thin letters addressed to Peter who tucked them away in his coat with a warm feeling. He’d recognized Aunt May and Mary Jane’s handwriting. “They used to bet on ‘im, ya know.”

“Who?” Peter asked. “Al. Wilson?”

“Yep. Had a pool about who he’d be beddin’ next. He went through half the town, he did. But then he caught the mark and ain’t nobody beddin’ him now. Call ‘im the deadpool, as it happens.” Bob grinned as if inviting Peter in on the joke.

Something cold spread in Peter’s chest. “Do people truly call him that?”

“I swear it, they do!” Bob insisted. “Don’ ya worry, though. He never comes in town no more. In fact, I hear he bought a live-in whore ta stay in his bed seein’ as how no decent folk’ll touch him now. But don’ worry! I know you’d be afright of seein’ a whore, but I’m sure she’ll be real professional and not come to the tavern or nothin’ ta be seen, ‘specially if she get the mark as well.”

Peter’s ears were ringing. Is that what people thought of him? That he was a whore bought to keep a cursed alpha’s dick warm? The food in his stomach lurched and burned at the back of his throat.

The worker reading the newspaper hurried over and grabbed Bob’s arm, giving the man a shake. “Shut your trap. Our patrons don’t need to hear about such nasty things while eating.”

As Bob ducked his head in shame, Peter glanced around the room. The group of men in the corner were looking at Bob with their faces pinched in disgust. The couple by the banister were whispering to one another, mouths hidden behind their hands, gazes flicking over Peter with growing curiosity. Peter’s heartbeat was drowning out the music drifting up from the bottom floor.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Peter said, his voice hard and flat to control his emotion. “I should go.”

He pushed through the two men and headed for the stairs, clamping down hard on the need to run though his steps were brisk. Behind him, he heard the man scolding Bob once more, “See what you did? Stop running off good customers!”

The tavern suddenly felt stale and stuffy. He could barely breathe through it. Pipe smoke swirled behind him, clinging to his coat, threatening to choke him. He hastened his steps, desperate to get outside under the cloudy skies. Eyes followed him, hot on his back.

Did they know? Had they guessed? What would they say about him once he left town? Was this how Wade felt all the time? No wonder he never left the farm.

But Peter couldn’t do that. He wasn’t the type of person who could be alone in the silence with only the animals to talk to. What was he supposed to do now? He was the bought whore that everyone would wrongly assume carried a terrible disease. None of them would talk to him again. He’d be lucky if they didn’t spit as he passed by.

He stopped once he realized that he was outside, somewhere in the middle of the road, but everything was too blurry to see. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He placed a hand to the buttons of his coat, wanting nothing more than to take it off in the desperate attempt for cooler air. But the expensive copper-colored material was his only protection, his one shield against the truth that he _was_ the mail-ordered trollop the whole town was likely anxious to see and gossip about.

The sound of a fan popping too close started him before it was being rapidly waved in his face, causing him to wince. An arm wrapped around his before Vanessa’s voice, overly loud, said, “Oh, Peter. So good to see you, hun. Come along, we’ve so much to catch up on.”

She set off, hurrying him along and out of sight, the blur of the fan hiding their faces. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth only to shut it again for fear he’d lose control. It must look rude of him not to respond, though, didn’t it?

Vanessa leaned into his ear and whispered, “Never let them see you cry, love. They don’t deserve the right to look upon your tears.”

Peter clenched his jaw and shoved down the urge to sob. He nodded and let himself be led away. They walked for some time, and eventually, Vanessa was able to slow her fan to an easy pace. Peter looked around him, noting that they were away from the buildings and walking over ankle-high green grass towards the shade of a towering oak tree. He was beyond grateful to be away from everyone long enough to gather himself once more.

“I am in your debt,” Peter said, voice quiet but steady.

“You’re in no such thing,” Vanessa admonished. “Come and sit a spell with me. We’ll talk it out.”

Peter carefully perched on a thick root protruding from the earth as Vanessa set about arranging her periwinkle dress just so, determined at all times to look like a blooming flower. They must have made a pretty sight together from a distance — a spot of color on the backdrop of so much green and growing. If only Peter weren’t feeling so miserable, he might appreciate the day for what it was, sitting in the shade under a pleasantly cloudy sky in a field smelling of blooming flowers with only the hum of bees to be heard.

After a moment, it occurred to Peter that Vanessa was silent, simply gazing into the distance, her fan lazily flicking around barely enough to stir the air. She was waiting on Peter to feel ready to speak. It was kinder than he’d expected. After his initial meeting with her, learning of her hobby to gossip, the crass way she acted around Wade, and the lie she told them both, Peter hadn’t had a high opinion of her. Perhaps he judged too soon.

_Like everyone in town has with Wade. With me._

“I learned who the deadpool was today,” Peter said at length.

Vanessa cursed rather creatively. “A wretched thing to call someone. I’ve never forgiven Weasel for coming up with it.” She smirked. “But then, I took my revenge when I managed to have the entire town calling him Weasel rather than his given name.”

A smile tugged at Peter’s lips. Knowing that felt darkly satisfying. “He doesn’t seem to argue the name any longer.”

“I know. It’s wonderful.” Vanessa preened as she watched the dancing pattern of sunlight through the fluttering leaves.

What little amusement there was faded as Peter thought about the rest. “There appear to be opinions in town of who is living with Wade now.”

Vanessa pursed her lips, eyes narrowing, but still gazing up rather than looking at Peter. “Do you know why I picked you?”

“You care about Wade’s health. I understand that.”

Finally, she met his eyes. “I did not pick you at random. You see, I knew very well that Wade was going to reject whoever I brought him, so I had to be incredibly selective. It took me over a year before I found you.”

Peter’s eyebrows drew together. “There is nothing remarkable about me. The agency toted my biggest assets as being young and having no prior children.”

Vanessa fluttered her fan at him. “I barely looked at that section. Instead, I read the letters.”

When he’d first signed up with the agency, Peter had been told to write a letter of introduction. It was to be something bland and generic enough to send to any alpha, filled with romantic overtures that would cause a potential mate to dream of the life the omega would bring them. He’d been informed, however, that most alphas seeking the agency’s services didn’t read, and that he should not harbor expectations he’d be chosen for something other than his picture.

Thinking it didn’t matter what he put down, Peter had let his feelings get the best of him. His letter, though pretty at a glance, had bite to it when thoroughly appraised. He hadn’t wanted the unknown life ahead of him, and he’d said as much, finding many creative ways to pen that he yearned to be his own person without an alpha’s influence. He dreamed of a life full of people, not the loneliness of some wild west homestead.

“My letter practically spit in the face of any alpha that would choose me,” Peter pointed out.

“Precisely. You don’t want the life Wade is living. I had a feeling you’d fight against it.”

Peter shook his head. “Then why choose me?”

“Because Wade doesn’t want it either.” Vanessa gave him a pointed look. “I wish I could say that I would give up my life to pull him back out of the cave he’s hidden away in, but it’s clear that those are all empty sentiments.”

A flash of regret passed over her features before determination overtook it. She leaned forward, eyes boring into his. “You’ve already given up everything to be with him, which is the step I couldn’t take. Now that you have him in your grasp, drag him back into the light. Neither of you wants the life he’s chosen, so don’t live it.”

A surprised burst of laughter bubbled out of Peter’s chest. “Are you saying you sent for _me_ because you thought I would be too stubborn to accommodate his choices?”

Vanessa smirked and sat back, fluttering her fan a little faster. “And you’re smart. If anyone could see through the piles of lies he tells himself, it would be you. Do you think he’s happy, or do you think he’s working himself to the point of having no ability to hear his own thoughts?”

Peter considered that. He thought of how Wade’s hands never stopped, even when he was supposed to be resting. There was always some project he was working on, some item in need of his attention. He ran an entire farm on his own, exhausting himself day after day, and finding more work even when Peter was there to help. He prattled to himself constantly, talking about anything and everything but never to someone who could make sense of what he might let slip.

He thought of the smiling man in the photo with his friends, of the stories still told to this day of their antics with no thought of “deadpool” in mind. He thought of how Wade was known to court anyone he could, meaning he was eager for acceptance and affection. He thought about how Wade knew who Vanessa was under all the frills and fans, and he had loved her for that, for being genuine and strong-willed.

Wade wasn’t some bashful farmer who disliked crowds and enjoyed the silence. No, what he hated was the solitude he found in a sea of people. That was far worse than keeping only the company of animals that did not shun him.

“He’s afraid of me,” Peter realized.

“Terrified, more like.” Vanessa sighed and looked back up to the leaves overhead. “He’s always braced for the next person to leave him.”

Peter dropped his head to watch the dancing shadows on the grass. “And you chose me because I can’t leave.”

“No, that’s a fool’s errand, assuming to trap you anywhere you don’t wish to be. Rather, I hoped that, once you turned both of your lives into something worth living, you would choose to stay — because you were happy.”

The image of Uncle Ben pulling a giggling Aunt May into his arms came to Peter’s mind. The two of them had always fit together perfectly, but Uncle Ben had consistently denied anything serendipitous. “Happiness takes hard work, Peter. Remember that. It’s tough going sometimes, but it’s always worth it.” How many times had he heard those words but never fully absorbed them? Surely, Uncle Ben would lecture that Peter was spending too much time now blaming others rather than putting in the effort needed if he truly wanted a future here.

Well, no more delays. Peter and Wade had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to add these photo manips at the last second. Why do I do this to myself?


	7. Chapter 7

_“T’was not the alpha’s thorns bending to the omega’s petals, but the petals embracing the thorns.”_

Peter gazed at the empty room. He’d been here for what felt like hours, standing beside the neatly bundled items he’d purchased in order to build his nest. He’d been putting this task off ever since his trip into town, but it wouldn’t be long before he fell into pre-heat. The urge to nest was growing by the day, but the room he stood in just wouldn’t do.

“Wade,” Peter called as he turned and made his way back down the stairs. Entering the living room found Wade as he normally was, sitting in his chair in the corner fiddling with some project. “Wade, I need your assistance.”

That certainly brought the alpha up short. He froze mid-movement before peeking up at Peter with barely hidden panic. “I thought you were setting up the den.”

“I am. That’s why I need you.”

“But…” Wade’s gaze fixated on the tools in his hands. “Dens are all about an omega’s comfort. It’s however you’d like to set it up.”

Peter frowned. “I’d like to set it up with our scent. Currently, the room smells of nothing but wood and must from being closed up, and the items I purchased smell only of the shop they were made in.”

Not to mention, the room was barren of any furniture. Some omegas did not prefer beds to nest in while others did. Peter did not have a huge preference either way, but the sterile, empty den Wade had felt too big, as if his nest would be engulfed by the space. A strange sort of anxiety clawed at his chest when he appraised the area, and he hoped that scenting the room would help.

“I, um…” Wade still wasn’t looking at Peter. “Did you buy any of that incense? Maybe it’ll help.”

The urge to argue rose within Peter, but he tamped it down. He had to think about this from another angle. Wade wasn’t bashful about sex, so obviously this was some other matter. He was afraid of being abandoned, so it likely had something to do with that. Was it a fear that he would associate the den with Peter and then never be able to use it again if Peter decided to leave?

Well, it would be difficult to throw out an entire room, but perhaps shifting the association to a bed would be easier. Wade would tell himself that a new one could be made, and Peter would be able to set up on something already containing their smell. The more he considered how he’d turn their bed into a nest, the more he liked the idea. Did he prefer smaller spaces more than he thought?

The city was cramped, so to work through his heat, his options were limited to the tight fit of tucked away cubbies and makeshift blanket tents for privacy. It was simply what was available, and he hadn’t ever considered it overly comforting, but perhaps it had become a habit. His body was expecting something much tinier than Wade’s house happened to be.

 _Well, now or never,_ Peter thought. “Then can we use the bed?”

This time, Wade’s eyes snapped up to meet Peter’s. “The bed?”

“Of course. Our smells are already blended there, I’m comfortable with the space, and we can go ahead and build the nest tonight, giving us plenty of time to mark the new bedding. It will also help me associate the nest with you so that my preheat feels safe and comfortable.”

Wade swallowed, his throat bobbing. “Ah… Will the bed be big enough?”

“It should be, we’ll just be closer to one another, which isn’t a bad thing. The increased intimacy will help things as well.”

At the word “intimacy,” Wade’s fingers twitched. Peter was paying close attention to any tell the alpha might have. Since his conversation with Vanessa, Peter was more aware of Wade’s little quirks. The truth was, Peter _did_ want to change his fate in this small, lonely farm. He’d thought it selfish before, but now he was more aware of the fact that Wade also wanted change, he was simply paralyzed by fear. That meant Peter would need to take the first step and support them both as Wade learned how to walk on his own once more.

Peter held out his hand. “I value your thoughts on this. I want us both to be comfortable.”

Tentatively, Wade set down the tools in his hands and, after a long pause, reached out in return. Peter slotted their fingers together and tugged. With little resistance at all, Wade was pulled from his chair and away from the cramped corner of the room he usually claimed. He took two steps, bringing him to stand close to Peter, blue eyes looking down into brown.

Wade’s fingers tensed. Peter smiled. The fingers relaxed once more.

“Then let’s get started,” Peter said and led them back up the stairs, hands joined.

☙☀❧

Wade had never seen an omega’s nest before. He hadn’t really known what to expect. The fact that there were special oversized bed sheets had baffled him at first, but they made sense the longer Peter worked. Around the edge of the mattress grew a wall of pillows, meticulously stacked. The overlong sheet was then draped on top and tucked under the mattress with particular folds to keep everything in place.

It was made of heavy material in dark blue. “To help keep the mattress dry and to hide stains,” Peter informed, all business.

Was this supposed to be so clinical?

“What do you think of that height?” Peter asked, pointing near the headboard where the wall of pillows were slightly more elevated.

“Uh, it looks fine?”

That was clearly not the answer Peter wanted. He turned to frown at Wade. “Well, I’m having to do my best to assume.” His voice was a tad bit snippy, but Wade would take that over the soothing, careful way he’d been spoken to for over a week now.

“Maybe if you’d tell me what your goal here is, I’ll know what you want me to say.”

A sharp sigh blew out of Peter’s nose. “I do not know what your usual preferences are. Am I in fear of sliding due to your exuberance and thus should protect my head? Or do you prefer me draped over the side and holding on the best I can? Perhaps you’re slow and deliberate, meaning I should prop myself up to be comfortable for a longer session.”

Never in Wade’s life had he heard someone talk about sex in such an unerotic manner. It took him a moment to recover, and he still didn’t understand the annoyed look Peter was sending his way. “Why are you mad at _me_? ‘Knowing my preferences’ means we’d’ve had to fuck already rather than waiting on your heat, you know!”

“I’m well aware, but you have made your reluctance to touch me quite clear.” Peter turned away with a huff in order to fiddle with pillow positions again, leaving Wade’s head reeling.

“Wha— I— _Me_?”

“Is there someone else I am supposed to copulate with?” Peter returned with bite.

Wade tossed his hands in the air. “Can you stop using words like that?”

“Like what?” Peter turned to Wade with narrowed eyes.

“Like this is nothing more than a job for you!”

Peter’s eyes widened before his jaw set, looking the picture of offended. "Is that what you think?"

Wade scoffed. "There's nothing else _to_ think when you've done your best to avoid—"

"I have _done my best_ to be patient with you,” Peter said, voice rising as he took a menacing step forward — which was, admittedly, a tad bit intimidating. “But please explain to me how I am to cut through your defenses when you would rather speak to the dogs than me.”

Wade felt his chest puff up in indignation. “Have you been spying on m—” But Peter wasn’t finished and didn’t care to let Wade talk.

“ _I_ am the one who asked that we spend time together,” he said, taking another step. “ _I_ am the one attempting to strike up conversation. _I_ am the one thinking of the future.” Another step. “ _I_ am the one asking you to join me in preparation of my heat _despite_ your blatant rejection.”

“Rejection?” Wade spluttered.

“You left me alone in a room that smells of isolation!" Peter shouted. “As if I can magically make the place comfortable on my own! Do you enjoy the idea of me falling into heat without my instincts even recognizing you as my mate?” There were tears in Peter’s eyes that were stubbornly clinging to his lashes. His breathing had picked up, tipping over from fury into anxiety.

It belatedly occurred to Wade how his actions so far could be perceived as dangerous to an omega. Yet, Peter had been patiently waiting, making simple requests to encourage Wade to take the next step. But Wade hadn’t taken that next step because he was too far in his own head assuming that Peter would rather go about his heat all on his own.

Like a self-fulfilling prophecy, Wade had been unknowingly _asking_ Peter to go about his heat alone.

“For _you_ of all people to say this is nothing but a job for me after—” Peter cut himself off. He swallowed hard, eyebrows drawn tight together as he trembled with contained emotions. “I am not a whore!”

Wade felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Is that what Peter assumed Wade thought? Had Wade really fucked up that bad? “I never said that!”

He reached out, but Peter turned away and marched over to the window, pulling the shutters open to the breeze and propping his hands on his hips as he breathed deep. After a few moments of silence, he said, “I do not want to associate this room or the nest with arguments and negativity.”

Wade shifted his weight from foot to foot, letting the strained silence stretch between them before he blurted, “Do you use big words to hide your emotions?”

It was no surprise that there was a sharp inhale from Peter, his shoulders tensing. Wade braced for another lecture of all his faults, but it didn’t come. Instead, Peter took slow, deliberate breaths, his shoulders sinking millimeter at a time until he looked almost placid. Wade wasn’t sure which was more intimidating: angry Peter or deliberately calm Peter.

“Yes,” came the unexpected, quiet reply. “I do.”

“Oh.” Wade hadn’t really expected that kind of honesty. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling even more like _he_ was the one sabotaging everything. “Look, I didn’t mean for anything I said to come off like that. You’re the most high class, proper person I know.”

“I’m not.”

“Ya kinda are, though.”

Peter sighed before they lapsed into silence once more. Wade felt his hands clench and release, a fidgeting motion he wasn’t even consciously thinking of. Outside, an owl’s call carried through the air, and a few of the goats bleated at each other in turn. The steady blink of a firefly crawled along the wooden panels of the shutters.

“Wade, I don’t know what you need me to do so that you’ll trust me,” Peter admitted.

Well, didn’t that just sting? Wade winced. “It’s not _me_ I’m worried about.”

“I know you think that, but no matter what I do, nothing changes. I thought it best to give you time and prove that I’m willing to make this work between us. I am willing to wait for you, but our bodies will not allow us indefinite respite.” Peter turned, his bright copper eyes meeting Wade’s. “So tell me what else I can do.”

“That makes it sound like you’re the one doing all the work,” Wade mumbled.

Peter didn’t respond, which was answer enough. Wade tamped down on the urge to grow angry over that. Seeing this whole crazy situation from Peter’s eyes, he really was the only one not trying. He’d thought that he was doing Peter a favor. Clearly, the omega was only here due to struggles with his family. Wade figured the nicest thing he could offer was keeping his distance. But that was a lie, wasn’t it? The real problem was…

“I didn’t wanna run you off,” Wade admitted, “but I also didn’t want to admit that you reminded me of how much I, ya know, didn’t like having nobody to talk to.”

“Then talk to me,” Peter insisted.

Wade huffed a laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re askin’ for. Once I get goin’, I don’t stop.”

“That’s what I want,” Peter admitted. “I grew up in a city of noise and constant chatter. At first, it was nice to experience the quiet and only hear the birds and animals. But after a while…it started getting to me. I _like_ talking, and I want to talk to _you_.”

Wade kicked at the floorboards with a short laugh. “You sure you’re gonna like what I have to talk about?”

“As it so happens, I would like to hear the full tale of how you managed to steal an entire apple tree and then lose it in a lake.”

Wade jolted. “Wha— How do you even know about that?”

“That’s a story that I think would stick around as a local legend anywhere, small town or big city.” Peter smiled, and it was unlike any expression Wade had seen thus far. It was a genuine smile, full of mirth and a touch of deviousness. It was everything Wade had assumed Peter wasn’t.

“Well, first of all,” Wade puffed up his chest, “the Howletts had it comin’.”

As it turned out, Peter really didn’t mind Wade’s rambling, and the tension between them lessened more and more every time Peter laughed. Wade found himself putting his all into relating the story, desperate to pull that unguarded, totally free snort-and-snicker from Peter again and again. How had Wade ever thought that Peter was some one-note, city-bred omega?

Eventually, they set back to the task of the nest. Wade provided some input, but he didn’t see much of a change in how Peter arranged things. It was clear which among them was the more particular, though Wade supposed that was unfair since it was a common trait in nesting omegas to be painfully exacting. A squishy comforter was thrown on top of the entire nest, with the quilt they usually used placed atop that. Apparently, Peter liked snuggling into soft things, and he reluctantly admitted that such preferences carried over outside of his heat, though he hated to be that picky when he was in full control of himself.

Wade made a mental note to collect down from the birds so he could stuff the quilt he was working on.

When they turned in for the night, things were far more intimate than normal. The wall of pillows meant less room on the bed as a whole. Wade and Peter were forced into close proximity and had to wrap around each other to find any sort of comfort in the confined space. Wade lamented the fact that he’d built a large bed for a reason because he liked to sprawl and toss. Though, admittedly, he had been confining himself to the edge of the bed for months of his own choosing.

All that said, when Peter’s soft curls nestled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around the lithe form pressed tight against him, he had to admit that it felt good. Having a real body willingly sharing warmth with him again was far better than those few times he’d let himself imagine it. He’d held the thought at bay for so long, afraid that if he yearned for it — or worse, if he had it — then going back to solitude would be unbearable.

He realized now that it was worse than that. It wasn’t just the weight of someone in his arms that burrowed through the armor he’d placed over his heart, it was _Peter’s_ weight. It was Peter who had kicked down the door and let the freezing wind of the world ravage his insides, only to bundle Wade up against it. He was still terrified that, at any moment, Peter would turn around and walk back out, leaving only icy devastation in his wake. Try as Wade might, he couldn’t stop himself from hoping, from wanting, from _needing_ the omega tucked close in his embrace.

 _The petals embracing the thorns,_ indeed, Wade thought wryly.

Belatedly, it occurred to Wade that perhaps he had fallen for Peter the very first day they met.


	8. Chapter 8

_“It is the ardor of the alpha that makes the vigor of the omega.”_

Peter cleaned, prepared, cleaned, and then prepared again. He’d gone so far as to scrub the floor of the bedroom to as high a shine as the hardwood was capable. The first time Wade had stepped on it in socks and slid halfway across the room, he’d made such an undignified shriek, that Peter had cried in guilt and laughed himself right into stomach cramps simultaneously.

Pre-heat was a mess of emotions and urges that Peter did not at all appreciate.

Usually, Peter hated that preheat made him bolder, as it often left him feeling petulant rather than alluring, but this time, he appreciated it. His demands to be held, cuddled, and touched were met with a surprising amount of enthusiasm, all considering. Not to mention, that hidden part of Wade who had, according to rumor, taken a hundred lovers was well worth meeting.

That was, Wade knew how to pamper.

Never before had Peter been so thoroughly massaged, groomed, and lavished with attention. All of Wade’s projects at night stopped in favor of giving Peter the special treatment he craved. Wade even rearranged the order in which he took care of tasks on the farm so he could see Peter more often, even if from a distance. When Peter brought lunch at noon, Wade would light up and smile before prattling on about nothing rather than begrudgingly eat in strained silence.

Peter would be a liar if he said he wasn’t enjoying it.

Despite all this, they still had only made it so far when it came to sex, though Peter found it difficult to complain. At night, curled under the quilt and surrounded by the heat and scent of alpha, Wade’s hands would begin to wander. Their calloused weight pressed and smoothed along Peter’s skin, feeling out every dip and divot. Peter would squirm and pant the longer it went on, his entire body growing hypersensitive by the time those thick fingers finally, _finally_ dipped down to tease Peter’s dripping hole.

Still, the touches would be light, fleeting things, only enough to ramp up the fire in Peter’s gut even higher. His cock would throb and drip, every touch on the soft, soft linens he bought felt like torture and not enough. He could have taken himself in hand, but he didn’t. His instincts screamed at him to hold onto his mate so that the alpha wouldn’t leave, so that’s what he did. One hand digging into the flesh of Wade’s ass or hip, the other pawing at Wade’s smooth head, occasionally catching his jaw long enough to force him down into a kiss.

Oh, the kissing. Slow and teasing, with nipping teeth and hot, sliding tongue, lips plush and feeling so perfect pressed to his. With every deliberate flick, every darting bit of exploration, Wade’s fingers would mimic the movement. It turned kissing into something far more erotic — and amazing filthy — in a way Peter had never experienced before. He’d thought he’d known what good sex was before.

But Wade, Wade was absolutely _ruining_ Peter, and he loved every last moment of it.

For the finale, Wade would press one finger inside, searching out and toying with the spot that had Peter’s mouth hanging open, his back arching. Wade’s thick cock would slide between his slick-soaked cheeks and thighs with languid thrusts that held a heavy promise of what would come during Peter’s heat. Then, Wade’s hot, hot hand would wrap around Peter’s straining cock with steady pressure and a gentle flick over the drooling head.

Peter would _keen_.

It didn’t even take a full stroke for Peter to shudder his release and ride the high as Wade found his own climax. Then, in a move that would make logical Peter crinkle his nose but made his preheat omega roll around in bliss, Wade would take both their spend and rub it into Peter’s skin, right where his womb was.

Peter was developing an extreme addiction to Wade’s hands.

On the third day of preheat, he grew lethargic and terribly hungry. Thankfully, Clint showed up around mid-morning. Peter offered the beta a shirt that had been scented by Wade and Peter before setting up the guest room. While Clint was in the house, he’d wear the scented shirt to make things easier on the couple, seeing as how they weren’t used to others being in their space. Best of all, Clint set to work right away, allowing Peter to eat his fill, obsessively squirrel away more food into the bedroom, and then curl up in his nest to sleep.

He woke once to the murmur of voices downstairs, and twice to Wade forcing Peter awake in order to eat and drink some more. They curled around one another that night, sleeping deep, Wade’s body pulled steadily into a false rut to match up with Peter’s heat. The longer they stayed together, the more their heats and ruts would synchronize until they matched, but for now, a false rut or heat would come forth to run alongside their mate’s.

Which meant the first year tended to be full of long days in bed, not that Peter minded. He was certain Wade wasn’t complaining either, not with the way he’d touched Peter during pre-heat.

Then, in the morning, it was upon them.

Peter woke flushed and panting, his skin damp and his insides throbbing. He felt painfully empty. Pressed up against his back was the burning, heavy presence of his alpha, thick arms wrapped tight around his torso. A high, pitiful noise was pulled from Peter’s throat, calling to his alpha, and he found no shame in that, only a bone-deep need.

Wade was awake in an instant, though he didn’t move or speak as Peter might have expected. Instead, Wade’s hands — oh, his hands — began to move, stroking Peter’s skin with the same languid attention as they had before. Peter squirmed, groaning in frustration. He couldn’t handle this, not now, not when his heat was burning so close to the surface of his skin. He didn’t want patience and pleasure, he wanted to take what his instincts demanded.

He shifted his hips, finding and pressing back on the hard cock he found, biting his lip as he felt it slip against the crease in his ass, already wet and ready for it. But try as he might, Wade did not react, nor did his hands falter in finding all the places they’d learned to pull Peter’s arousal straight to the stars. A litany of curses rang through Peter’s head, but all that fell from his lips were whines and moans. By this point, his squirming was less deliberate and more involuntary.

Trailing kisses were pressed from his ear, over his jaw, and down his throat. Wade latched onto the spot where Peter’s now swollen scent gland was and _sucked._ A guttural shout was ripped from Peter, his hips thrusting into nothing but air and bedding. His eyes rolled as the world blanked out for a moment in nothing but starbursts of pleasure. Slick gushed from him and his thighs trembled.

One big hand slipped down to grip Peter’s thigh, gently kneading the muscle there, thumb swirling Peter’s own dripping mess into his skin. Then, Wade’s lips popped as they pulled back before leaving a delicate kiss to Peter’s sensitive gland. Peter was still on edge, still overwhelmed yet so close to his first orgasm of many. But when Wade’s hands moved, they were slower and lighter than normal, keeping that pleasure high — so high — but never letting it tip over.

Peter hissed a breath through his teeth. No one had ever done something like this to him before. In fact, he’d never thought about teasing or prolonging pleasure prior to this pre-heat. He had no idea how to wrap his mind around this kind of sex. His other experiences had been quite to the point, neither himself or previous partners having much time or patience.

Wasn’t Wade in rut yet? How was he still so calm? “W-wade,” Peter whispered, his voice already wrecked and they’d only just begun. “Don’t—” He gasped as fingers trailed over the crease of his groin. “I need…”

“Hm?” was Wade’s only response, as if Peter’s plight were entirely unknown to him.

 _Fine, I’ll do it myself,_ Peter thought. He could at least take the edge off for now since Wade was so insistent to take things slow.

However, when his hand moved down to take his own dripping cock in hand, Wade reacted. Lightning fast, Peter was seized by the wrist. His eyes widened. Wade wouldn’t, would he? Peter tugged, doing his best to pull away, but Wade didn’t relent.

 _I have two hands!_ Peter shouted in his head. He’d barely moved it, however, before there was a flurry of movement.

Peter ended up on his back, Wade’s broad form hovering over him, his hands pinned up by his head. Those blue eyes were bright with rut, pupils dilated and raking along Peter’s sweating, squirming body in a gaze Peter could almost feel. He spread his legs, encouraging his alpha to take what they both craved.

Instead, Wade dropped soft, lingering kisses along Peter’s chest. His hips would push forward enough to tease Peter’s cock before pulling away when Peter tried to grind their erection together. It was all too much. Peter whined and bit back a sob, his whole body jerking and trembling, but Wade’s iron grip wouldn’t let Peter escape.

“Please!” Peter whispered on a ragged breath.

Wade kissed the shell of Peter’s ear. “I’m waiting to hear the right words,” he rumbled from deep in his chest.

 _What words?!_ Peter wanted to scream. Instead, the omega in him obliged by rambling what would surely be a mortifying number of pleas when he thought back on this later. “My alpha, Wade, please, take me. I need your knot. Fill me up. Breed me. I need you!”

A fine tremor ran through Wade, but he didn’t relent, simply continued to drop those painfully soft kisses along Peter’s body, tongue flicking over the nubs of Peter’s nipples, teeth grazing just enough to have Peter ready to scream.

“Just fuck me!” Peter shouted through a spike of frustration, but that only caused Wade to chuckle before outlining the dips of Peter’s stomach with his tongue. “I need to feel you,” Peter babbled, back to his long string of desperate words. “My alpha. Mine. Your omega needs it. Need! Please!”

Wade paused, body tense as if anticipating something. Peter’s scrambling mind ran back through what he’d said. What had been the trigger? “I’m your omega,” Peter tried.

Heated blue eyes flicked up to Peter’s wild copper ones. “Mine.”

Yes! Alphas were possessive during their ruts, and Wade was insecure at the best of times. This was clearly the right route. “Yours,” Peter moaned. “I’m yours.”

The grin Peter received was a touch feral. Wade moved, inch by inch, until his face hovered over Peter’s. “All of you belongs to me,” Wade’s voice was deep, his canines glinted in the soft morning lighting slipping between the shutters.

“Yes,” Peter breathed. “Yes.”

“Your body,” Wade said like a coming storm, “inside and out.”

Peter bit his lip, his hips thrusting up desperately, Wade’s bass voice rattling down his spine. He nodded. He wanted to be possessed right now, claimed entirely by Wade. What omega wouldn’t this far into their heat? Giving himself to Wade meant being filled with all his body craved.

“I will give you what you need.”

“Yes!” Peter whined.

“I will give it when you need it. _I_ will decide.” A wicked grin spread across Wade’s face. “I know what’s best.”

Peter trembled with desire, pinned down and at his alpha’s mercy. He loved it. Normally, he’d spit in the face of anyone who said that to him, but right now, with his omega instincts washing over him like a flood, he drowned in the pleasure Wade was providing with words alone. Peter was wanted, needed, claimed, possessed. He was everything his alpha could ever need.

“Yours,” Peter breathed. “All yours.”

“Prove it,” Wade challenged, and Peter’s stubbornness rose inside him like a phoenix, a challenge burning in his eyes that Wade chuckled at. “Don’t touch yourself.”

Well, that certainly wasn’t what Peter expected to hear. He huffed in surprise, his dick jumping in protest at just the thought of being denied what it craved even longer.

“I will give you all the pleasure you need when you need it,” Wade said, amusement tinting his words. “Give yourself over to me.”

“I’m yours,” Peter choked out before fisting his hands into the bedding.

Wade pressed his lips to Peter’s ear and rumbled, “So good for me, Peter, my sweet omega.”

That was unfair. How was Peter supposed to keep control when Wade said things like that? He writhed in the sheets and writhed again as Wade’s hands slid down from his wrists, calloused fingers trailing scorching static as they ran across his forearms and up to graze the sensitive skin higher and higher before dragging down his chest. Wade’s thumbs bumped over every rib, rising and falling in time with Peter’s rapid breaths.

As if that weren’t enough, Wade’s tongue was trailing along the outside of Peter’s ear, teeth catching the lobe and dragging across with a teasing growl. Lips, teeth, and tongue left a trail of marks from behind Peter’s ear all the way down his neck. Slow. So slow. Peter’s hips thrust into the air of their own accord as he stretched his neck to the side, baring himself on instinct to appease his relentless alpha.

Wade pressed his hips down to roll along Peter’s groin and thighs, but never enough to give Peter what he needed, only enough to ramp his arousal higher and higher. Had he thought he was at his limit before? That was nothing. Wade was going to shatter Peter before he ever had the chance to find release.

“Alpha!” Peter sobbed, but still Wade didn’t relent. Peter’s hands twisted where they gripped at his carefully made nest. It was so hard to maintain control and not touch himself. He _needed_ so badly, but the omega in him was burning bright with the demand to prove himself. His thighs were shaking hard enough to rattle against Wade’s hips.

“Look at you, so desperate,” Wade said, voice dripping over Peter like warm honey. “So used to getting what you want, aren’t you, greedy little omega?”

Peter whimpered and thrashed his head. He’d never considered himself selfish, especially not in bed. Alphas were the ones who were wild and took what they wanted while blinded by desire and dominance. So why wasn’t Wade like that? He had every reason to be, right? The confusion must have shown on Peter’s face, for Wade answered.

“Three years of lonely ruts,” Wade said as if the answer was obvious. “Imagine the control I’ve learned during that time. Well, I suppose you don’t have to imagine anymore. You’re living it, now.” A dark chuckle danced along Peter’s skin, yanking a pitiful gasp and whine from the trapped omega.

Yes, those lonely years were exactly the reason Peter had been trying to prepare for a wild, uncontrollable alpha. It hadn’t occurred to him that it would have taught Wade how to be patient, how to extend pleasure so that it would burn through the worst of his rut faster even without a partner. And now all those hard-won skills were being enacted onto Peter with torturous kisses and caresses.

The ardor of the alpha, indeed. Peter wasn’t sure if his _vigor_ could keep up.

By the time Peter’s nipples were swollen and sensitive, his body littered with kiss marks, and teeth-shaped bruises covered most of him, he was a mindless mess, the concept of words long escaping him. When Wade’s determined hands and mouth made it to Peter’s thighs and groin, Peter was shouting wordless obscenities. When a hot tongue licked a stripe up the underside of Peter’s throbbing cock, he arched off the bed in blind bliss.

Wade caught Peter before he fell back to the nest, holding him up effortlessly. Peter didn’t have a single thought to spare to wonder why before Wade’s tongue was buried in his dripping hole. The scream Peter let loose would later leave him grateful for living so far away from other people.

The pleasure was too much for his mind to handle. It was more than what an orgasm should feel, exploding into the starbright world of _too much_ before he could even climax. He was too keyed up, experiencing bliss beyond his wildest dreams, all because Wade was determined to drive him mad rather than let Peter have any control over his own body. That satisfied something deep inside Peter that he would definitely not think about once his heat faded.

Peter wasn’t sure how long Wade spent indulging himself, but it ended with Peter’s hole clenching in need and his dick drooling a puddle on his stomach. His hair was a mess after thrashing his head so much, and the sheets were bunched around him in a white-knuckled grip. He was shivering all over while burning up at the same time. He moaned a sound somewhere between pleasure and distress.

“Poor thing,” Wade said with a chuckle. “Are you ready to present?”

Peter had never flipped over so fast in his life, all of his muscles moving on instinct before his sluggish mind could ever catch up. His cock bounced between his legs, but he didn’t touch it and kept his legs wide apart, low back arched to present his ass better. His entire world had narrowed down to the overwhelming desire to have his alpha fill him.

“So good for me,” Wade said. “So perfect.” His voice sounded hypnotized by the sight of his omega. It stroked something inside Peter that left him purring in delight.

Something blunt and glorious pressed against Peter’s entrance, and he keened. Wade made a pleased rumble before sliding in, stretching Peter in all the ways he’d been desperate for. Usually, this part had a bit of a sting to it, not that Peter’d ever minded it, but there was none of that now. He was so far gone, his body so ready, that all he could feel was how gloriously right it was to be spread wide on Wade’s cock. The noises that spilled from his lips hopefully got that sentiment across.

Wade hissed as he slid in and out of Peter, slow and deliberate, his thumbs pulling apart Peter’s cheeks the entire time. He must have been watching, gazing intently as Peter’s ass swallowed Wade up again and again. Peter moaned at the thought, his body trembling, hole fluttering around Wade’s big cock stuffed deep inside and easing the ache that Peter was losing his mind over.

This. This was what he’d needed.

Wade bent to curl himself over Peter’s body, resting his weight on his forearms, face nuzzling at Peter’s long neck. He hummed in pleasure as Peter bared his glands, squirmed on Wade’s dick, and whimpered with need. “You gonna keep being good for me?” Wade asked, his voice deep enough to send a shock down Peter’s spine.

Lacking the facilities to respond properly, Peter fisted his hands into the bedding once more as his lonely cock twitched and drooled, a gush of slick dripping down his thighs.

“I’ll give you exactly what you need,” Wade promised, and then he was moving.

The impact of Wade’s hips was everything Peter could have asked for, hard and direct. It was the perfect butal contrast to the frustratingly long foreplay. Peter’s pleasure was no longer centered around his throbbing dick and twitching hole, it spread deep within him, winding up like a coil, sending bursts of fiery pleasure through every inch of him. His mouth hung open, eyes rolling, as all of him swelled with that feeling of reaching his peak.

Neither of them were going to last long. Peter was too high strung, and Wade hadn’t been with anyone in years. Later it would occur to Peter that was why Wade had held off so long, so as not to embarrass himself with how fast he knew he’d blow now that Peter was there — during preheat and now. Peter would feel annoyed at Wade for that later. Currently, he was blinded by how good he felt, and there was nothing but that.

He whined with the desire to cum, though almost afraid of it. Every inch of him was ready to reach climax, and it would be stronger and more intense than any he’d ever felt in his life, he knew. Wade was growling, so close already, his knot swelling and teasing at Peter’s entrance. Peter wriggled and whined, begging wordlessly for it.

With a surge of hips accompanied by a lewd squelch of slick, Wade’s knot popped inside, stretching Peter impossibly wide. Teeth sank into Peter’s gland at the same time. Wade snarled into the skin as he rutted his hips as much as they could move now that he was locked in place. And Peter, Peter was howling with the intensity of his release.

His vision whited out, his whole body locking up as he shot his release onto the nest below them. All he could hear was the ringing in his ears, and all he could feel was blessed relief and the wide knot inside of him. It was the hardest he’d ever cum in his life.

And Wade wasn’t done.

At last, Wade’s hand reached around and took hold of Peter’s neglected cock to stroke it. Peter couldn’t stay still, his whole body jerking and shaking with the intensity of it. It was too much. Too much. Peter’s mouth hung slack, drooling, choked noises filling the air as another orgasm hit him, this one much lighter than his first. Still, Wade didn’t relent. Peter’s climax had barely subsided before another built and crashed over him like the repetitive, rolling tide of the ocean breaking upon the shore.

Wade kept at it, his steady fist working up and down in time to the grinding of his hips, pulling one fluttering orgasm after another from his omega in a non-stop flow. Peter could feel how his insides milked Wade with each one, drawing out every last bit of cum from his balls and locking it in tight with his knot.

Peter’s mind sputtered out and shut down as he gave his body over to his alpha.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: fairly nsfw art on-page at the end of this chapter.

_“Thin and straight, do not mate; voluptuous curves, the alpha deserves.”_

Wade could smell when Peter woke. The scent of contentment drifting in the air between them was abruptly spiked with arousal before a moan followed. They were curled together on their sides, the messy, soft nest surrounding them. Wade had barely come loose before his hips were moving again, his half-deflated knot sliding in and out of Peter’s limp body. He was incapable of stopping, his body yearning for more, more, more after so long without. Peter didn’t seem to mind.

Half-purring and half-moaning, Peter nuzzled further back into Wade’s chest, his hips tilting in order to pull Wade deeper inside. He didn’t act as if he cared about being fucked unconscious. If Wade was honest, he was a little surprised by that. The prim and proper omega that had shown up on his doorstep that first day was nowhere to be found in the wanton man in his arms.

This round was much slower than the first. Wade knew that after so long, he’d be unable to control himself once his dick was surrounded by warm, wet omega, so he’d put it off as long as possible. Well, perhaps he put it off a little longer because of how amusing it was to watch Peter’s face. Those bright copper eyes had been wide with shock and confusion before twisting into defiant determination the longer Wade pushed. That surprisingly spoiled side of Peter was a joy for Wade to tease.

Breaking Peter down into a mindless, desperate mess was even better.

But now, with the initial urgency subsided, Wade’s dick could take its time enjoying an omega’s soft flesh once more. Peter drifted, half-conscious, through it all, his fumbling hands occasionally squeezing at Wade’s as they wandered. Wade had to admit that it felt so nice to finally indulge this side of him once more, these focused alpha urges he’d been blocking out for so long. It was why he hadn’t taken a single moment to consider buying a night with someone for his previous ruts. It was so much harder to abstain when he could still remember what it felt like.

Memory had faded over the years, and now he was able to make new ones. He focused on the feel of sliding into Peter, of the skin under his hands, of the long legs wrapped around him. His ears were pricked for every little sound, every soft breath, every moan. He watched with rapt attention at the way Peter’s eyelashes fluttered along sun-kissed cheeks.

What he wanted to remember most of all, however, was the smell. Peter’s slick clouding the air around him, the sweat on their skin, the easy pleasure rolling off of Peter like a persistent fog from his glands. It permeated the room, their scents blending into something that felt so bone-deep and right. Wade could lose himself in it forever.

Eventually, his climax could not be ignored, and he knotted Peter once more, the both of them groaning with pleasure. Peter was still only half-hard, but Wade would be surprised if Peter could get it up at all after everything that had happened earlier. Either way, he didn’t complain, just purred happily in Wade’s arms.

Smiling, Wade brought his hand up to settle over Peter’s belly. His fingers curved around the slight bulge of himself under the skin and imagined he could feel Peter expanding with his seed. “There’s so much inside you,” Wade whispered. “You’re so full for me.”

Peter shivered and sighed with happiness before his scent mellowed once more and sleep took him. The poor thing was exhausted. He’d likely never had a lover quite like Wade. Of course, that pleased Wade’s alpha instincts to no end. He grinned to himself as he relaxed, pulling Peter tight against him and enjoying the feel of the hot body squeezing his knot.

The sun was high in the sky when the urgency in them both relaxed some. That was when Wade’s other instincts kicked in. He gathered the things Peter had hoarded in the room and proceeded to lavish his omega with care. He pulled Peter up into his arms in an easy reclined position before kissing all over the sleep-slackened face to wake his mate. Peter was groggier than normal when his eyes finally fluttered open, but all it did was make him look adorable with those droopy eyes and jutted bottom lip.

“Hungry?” Wade asked, keeping his voice low.

“Mmm,” was the incoherent response. It did something funny to Wade’s chest.

Wade held a morsel of food to Peter’s lips which was taken without complaint. This part was always nice. He’d rarely had a lover complain about how much he enjoyed doting on them after sex, and Peter was no different. He purred and accepted Wade’s attention, allowed himself to be fed, hydrated, and wiped down with loving care. Peter was always so self-sufficient, determined to prove he could pull his own weight, and Wade could admit that his behavior helped that habit very little. Still, it was nice to give into their instincts to nurture and be pampered.

Peter stretched languidly in the rumpled sheets of their nest, all delectable bare skin and sex-mussed hair. He offered Wade a lazy smile before murmuring, “My leg is stiff.”

“Is that a hint?” Wade teased, but he was already moving, beyond happy to be asked to touch and care for Peter more. His hands ran along Peter’s thigh, fingers digging into the muscle to find the tension and work it out. Peter moaned, and it stirred the embers still burning low in Wade’s gut.

“I think I like you like this,” Wade mused as he watched Peter sprawl unselfconsciously in the sheets.

“Hm, like what?” Peter asked, eyes half-lidded as he watched Wade.

“Uninhibited.”

Peter huffed a laugh, turning his face away. “Well, you’ve already had your hands all over me, so now I suppose it’s safe to say you don’t mind.”

“Don’t mind what?”

Meeting Wade’s gaze once more with a wry grin, Peter trailed the back of his fingers along his slim frame. “My voluptuous omega curves.”

Wade’s eyes widened, and his fingers stilled. He hadn’t heard reference to that particularly crass schoolyard rhyme in a long time. Did Peter really have hang-ups over his appearance? Even still, while looking at Wade? That made no sense. Besides, “You’re perfect.”

The seriousness with which Wade said it was apparently unexpected, for Peter was stunned, his lips parting slightly in wonder. After a moment of silence between them, Peter turned his face away, one hand moving to rest on his cheek and shield his expression from view. “You exaggerate.”

“I don’t.”

“Your rut is making you terribly embarrassing—”

“Peter.” Wade moved to all fours, bracketing Peter beneath his body. “Peter,” he whispered and waited until shy, copper eyes flicked over to meet his insistent gaze. “I mean it. I love every inch of you. You’ve been stunning since the moment I met you.”

Slowly, Peter turned to really look at Wade, as if assessing whether or not it was true or just bedroom talk. He reached up to run soft fingers along the texture of Wade’s cheek. “Would you be upset,” he whispered haltingly, “if I said the pattern here reminds me of a flower? Like the bloom of a chrysanthemum.”

Wade surged forward and caught Peter’s lips in a long, filthy kiss that the omega sank into so beautifully. Peter’s words continued to rattle around Wade’s mind, and he didn’t know how to feel about them. He didn’t want to parse his emotions, not right now. Right now, he just wanted to possess this blessing that had been brought into his life and make sure Peter belonged to Wade and Wade alone. Forever.

☙☀❧

Peter spent the next few days in languid bliss. His every need was attended to and then some. The intimacy shared with Wade grew sweeter every time they indulged. They spent far more time in bed than necessary, but thankfully, Clint didn’t seem to mind. Perhaps he was being nice since it was Peter and Wade’s first heat together, and the extra work was likely good for his savings. Or at least, Peter told himself that as he spent more days in bed recovering than Wade.

Though Peter did his best to feel guilty about not getting back to work, Wade refused to let that happen. He insisted that Peter should focus on his health and rest. It was clear that the two coughing fits in the middle of the more intense rounds of sex had spooked Wade. So, Peter obliged and did light work around the house when he felt antsy.

That said, it felt as if Wade was trying to sabotage Peter’s full recovery. Not that Peter minded it much. Since his heat, Wade had been far more willing to touch. It would start with little things in the morning like brushing Peter’s hair back or a gentle kiss before leaving to tend the animals. Then it was feeding Peter bites of food at breakfast followed by wandering hands at lunch. By the time night rolled around, they were curled around each other on the couch.

But Wade was no longer keeping them chaste. His rumored experience in carnal relations were confirmed in the way he could work Peter up into a frenzy even without a heat or rut to guide them. They had done terrible things all over the living room and kitchen, things that made Peter blush as he rolled the handle of the butter churn in the mornings. His poor hole had never been so sore, and that should have annoyed him, but it very much didn’t.

He could hardly remember a time when he’d had such focused attention from anyone, especially an alpha. It seemed silly, considering they were mated, but it left Peter blushing and smiling to himself when he was alone. He made sure that Wade never saw such embarrassing expressions on his face, of course.

Since Peter had more free time at the moment, he made it a point to call Vanessa on a regular basis. He truly _should_ have some friends in the area, and now that he better understood her intentions, he felt more comfortable reaching out. For her part, she was thrilled, stating that the phone was finally seeing some use.

“It’s so nice to be able to check and make sure he’s still alive,” she groused through the earpiece. “Even better now that I get to have a lovely conversation with you.”

Peter tried to control the smile attempting to spread over his face. Usually, he wasn’t one to act so cheery over every little thing, but he’d been so happy lately… “I’m certain he also enjoys hearing that you’re distracted by others more than him currently.”

“You mean he’s happy I have a slew of people to boss around right now and can’t spare the time to lecture him. It’s alright, you can say it.” Her amusement came through the call even with the sound distortion. “In my defense, a wedding this grand simply cannot work without a firm hand to guide the proceedings.”

“I look forward to seeing you in your dress.”

Peter had never seen any event on the scale of which Vanessa was planning. It was as if she’d read an article on some royal wedding and decided to mimic it. The planning in and of itself was extensive, but her family and fiance were surprisingly patient and indulgent of her whims. That was likely because she was whip-smart and business savvy. She’d single-handedly doubled her family’s savings in the last five years.

“Everyone should look forward to my dress,” Vanessa said without shame. “I’m having it made by the best seamstress in the state.”

Peter couldn’t stop the grin this time. “I’m sure it will be a dress for the history books.”

“It better be! That’s the intention, after all.”

His laughter was interrupted by Wade’s voice. “Who are you talking to?”

Peter turned to see a little frown on Wade’s lips, the skin between his eyes wrinkled and tight. Had something happened to spoil Wade’s mood? He’d been so happy this morning. Peter tilted his head, face falling in concern. “Vanessa, of course.” It wasn’t as if he knew many other people.

“Oh, is that Wade?” Vanessa chimed over the line. “Tell him that if his suit has a single thread sticking out, he best pay to have a new one made or else he’s banned from my wedding.”

Wade stalked over and pulled Peter a little too roughly into his chest. His hands tugged Peter’s shirt from his trousers in one swift move that had Peter gaping in shock. Calloused palms were running up Peter’s chest before he was able to gather his wits enough to try and squirm away. He was still on the phone!

“Hang up,” Wade said, his voice dark with a hint of a growl. It sent a familiar zing of arousal through Peter, though he didn’t appreciate it at the moment.

Pulling back from the receiver, which incidentally pushed them closer together, Peter whispered, “This is inappropriate.”

“Everything is appropriate with my omega,” Wade replied, voice unyielding and not at all quiet.

“Really, Wade?” Vanessa’s small voice could still be heard from the earpiece. “That was so — ” She didn’t get to finish before Wade pulled the device from Peter’s hand and returned it to it’s slot, killing the call.

Peter opened his mouth to declare how rude that was, but Wade’s other hand pinched his nipple, and the speech turned into an indignant squawk.

“You should only be smiling at me,” Wade rumbled into Peter’s neck before sucking a new mark over the scent gland there, making Peter’s knees tremble.

Everything Peter had to say about the incident was washed away due to his body being so tuned into his alpha after such an intense first heat together. He melted under the sudden assault, hands planted firmly on the wall as Wade fucked him over the small table that held the telephone. Peter was horribly embarrassed that his spend ended up all over the dark metal and allotted a large amount of time after lunch scrubbing it clean, his cheeks flaming.

Peter let the incident slide, knowing that they were still suffering through the aftereffects of aligning to one another’s cycles. A little possessive behavior from a newly mated alpha was normal. However, much to Peter’s dismay, such moments escalated.

More than once, Wade declared that Peter was doting on the animals more than his alpha. It started off with Wade pouting, but it ended with Peter being bent over a post as the goats watched with judgemental eyes. Doing such things out in the open was thrilling in both a good and bad way. Peter knew there was no one around, but all that open space where anyone could see had his heart beating in his throat.

Sometime later, when Peter brought lunch to Wade deep in the fields, Wade asked, “Why don’t you sit on my lap while we eat?” The lewd look on his face made the innocent suggestion something far more untoward.

“Is that all your mind can think about lately?” Peter asked, shaking out the quilt he brought with a harsh snap before deliberately sitting down on it.

“Aren’t you the same?” Wade asked, his voice full of meaning.

Peter refused to meet his mate’s eyes. Their blooming love life was perfectly normal, but that didn’t mean they should reduce themselves to uncontrolled hedonists. “Sit. Eat.”

Wade did as told, but the suggestions continued day after day, as if he was trying to wear Peter down. Perhaps he was. Perhaps he succeeded. It wasn’t as if Peter didn’t enjoy sitting on Wade’s cock while being hand-fed pieces of tomato so fresh that the juices dripped over his chin and down his neck. It was a lovely distraction from all the work being done on the farm lately. It was just that, well, giving in seemed to encourage more and more displays of possessiveness rather than allowing such urges to wash from Wade’s system.

It all came to a head one night as Peter was finishing up dinner while Wade was washing off the day’s dirt and sweat in the mudroom.

“When is Clint heading into town next?” Peter asked, raising his voice to be heard. “I wanted to price a few things — and check the mail, of course.” He also had the idea to bring a few of the cute figurines Wade had whittled and forgotten about over the years to some of the shops. Perhaps they could earn a bit of coin if there were any children young enough to want them as toys.

“Clint?” Wade asked, and his voice was closer now. He must not have heard clearly. Peter hummed in acknowledgment as he finished up and turned to grab the plates.

It was then that he was taken by the arm and pushed against the wall hard enough to knock the breath from him. As he was trying to recover his wits to determine what happened, Wade pressed into his space, looming over him with a growl. Those bulging, muscled arms were on either side of Peter’s head, the broad body solid and strong. Wade pulled his lips back from his teeth in a silent snarl.

“Clint is a beta. _I_ am your alpha.” Wade leaned down to press their faces closer together, making sure Peter was well aware of how much bigger and stronger Wade was after so many years working the farm alone.

Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He had thought Wade above these impulses. They weren’t hormonal teenagers, after all. “I am aware of that — ”

“You are mine, remember?” Wade’s voice rose, his body near quivering with tension, face stormy with threat. “You said it yourself. You belong to me!”

And that was precisely where Peter’s patience ran out. Face setting into something far colder than any alpha would expect given the situation, Peter hooked two fingers and jabbed them into the soft spot under Wade’s ribs as hard as he could. Just like every other “big, scary” alpha Peter had done that to, Wade doubled over sideways with a wheeze, his eyes tearing immediately.

Peter wasted no time. He stepped one leg forward between Wade’s thighs, hooked around the back of one knee, and slammed his shoulder into Wade’s broad chest. The pots and pans in the kitchen rattled as Wade hit the floor. His face contorted as if he was prepared to fight, indicating the jab had done little to snap him back to his senses. Peter wasn’t going to provide an opportunity for this to escalate. With a few more well-ingrained moves, Wade was on his stomach, arm pulled tight behind his back, and Peter had one thick digit locked and stretched as far back as it could go.

“Settle down or I’ll break your finger,” Peter said, his voice as icy and calm as a winter morning.

Wade bucked as if he could throw Peter off, but it wasn’t that easy. He opened his mouth to shout something, but Peter applied more pressure to the finger’s socket. Wade abruptly stopped moving, his voice and breath catching in his throat with a tiny noise of pain.

“Yield.”

Alpha instincts were never fond of that word. Wade twisted and cursed, but Peter simply pressed his knee harder into Wade’s low back and pulled the tendons around Wade’s knuckle to their limits.

“Yield,” Peter repeated with even greater warning. He didn’t really want to break a bone within his first year of being mated. It felt like a bad omen.

At last, Wade’s body went limp, his breath huffing out of him in a noise suspiciously akin to a sob. Peter waited a few more moments to make sure his point was clear before carefully standing and moving a few paces away. Wade flopped onto his back like a morose fish before dragging himself into a sitting position. He cradled his abused hand in his other arm and stared resolutely at the floor.

“To be perfectly clear,” Peter said, crossing his arms, “I will not be treated as if I am property. I will _not_ be living in this house enjoying less freedom than your _dogs._ I am your mate, not an item to be possessed.”

“You promised,” Wade muttered at the floorboards.

“I promised that I am yours, and I am. I have been since the day we signed our marriage contract.”

“No!” Wade insisted, emotion clouding his voice. “That was — It’s not the same! You were just _here_ before, but when we were _together_ like that, we — you — ”

“ _Before_ my heat, I was fighting an uphill battle to even talk to you!” Peter snapped, displeased that his hard work was being entirely ignored.

“But you could have left!” Wade argued.

“You’re saying that you don’t trust me.”

“I’m saying that you have no reason to stay.” Wade’s shoulders slumped. “I know what and who I am. You’re amazing, and I see more and more of that every day, and knowing that you could find someone better than me at any moment, it…it’s driving me crazy.”

Peter took a deep breath in an effort to stay calm and control his tone. “I understand that you feel insecure, but the solution to that is not to control every aspect of my life or bend me over constantly.”

Wade huffed. “ _Insecure_. Leave it to you to find a polite way to phrase ‘worthless mess.’”

“I have never thought that about you.”

“Sure,” was the disbelieving reply. He curled further forward, doing all he could to hide his face. “You could have any alpha you want. I wouldn’t even blame you for leaving.”

Peter’s knee-jerk instinct was to say that wasn’t true. Peter had been rejected by plenty of potential mates he’d swooned over in the past. On the tail of that thought was indignant anger that Wade was insinuating, consciously or not, that Peter was the kind of person to hop alphas on a whim even after being mated. Of course, allowing anger to overtake him or arguing Wade’s fears wouldn’t help. Instead, he took a moment to collect himself and forced his emotions back under control.

“What is it that you think I want from an alpha? Someone willing to protect and provide for me? You’re right, I could find that in almost any alpha. I can only assume that you believe that is all an alpha _is_ other than a handsome face.”

Peter didn’t bother to keep the displeasure from his voice. Wade flinched but didn’t attempt to say anything in return. Sighing through his nose, Peter moved to kneel in front of his mate, wrapping long fingers around one scarred, trembling hand. It took a moment, but Wade finally lifted those bright blue eyes to meet Peter’s.

“I chose _you_ from all the others, and I chose to stay after our first meeting. I want to be your mate, but more than that, I want to know you. All of you. We are people first, individual to ourselves, and that is what I care about. I understood then and now that building a life with you will take work, not only because of this farm, but because we started as strangers to one another. I’m willing to put that effort into this relationship. Do you understand why?”

Wade was unusually silent as he shook his head the smallest amount.

“Because I don’t want any random mate that will have me, I want a partner that I can _grow_ with. Are you willing to be that with me?”

A loud sniffle pierced the quiet between them before Wade’s shoulders began to shake. “Will you still say that if I cry?” he asked, voice thick.

Peter fought back a smile, not wanting to upset Wade further by appearing amused at such unexpected vulnerability. He ran a hand along the smooth surface of Wade’s head. “If you can’t cry in front of your partner, then it’s not a relationship worth having.”

Wade dropped his weight forward, face buried in Peter’s stomach as he cried out the anxiety that had been coursing through him for weeks. Peter wrapped his alpha securely in his arms, his hands stroking away the worry with smooth, even movements. The urge to purr was high, but he bit it back, unsure of how Wade would feel about Peter being so pleased with the situation. It was hard to explain even to himself, but the omega inside of Peter was so extremely happy to be the safe harbor for his alpha. Nobody else would see this kind of vulnerability from Wade except for Peter, and that made this moment between them far more intimate than the sex Wade’s possessive instincts had been craving.

Though, Peter was forced to admit that being so enthralled by a part of his alpha only he would see made him a little possessive as well. Ah, well. He had a feeling that Wade wouldn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fan myself every time I see this art...
> 
> Ahem.
> 
> Weddings back in the day weren’t really a big thing. Some were an excuse to have a party, but most of the time it was just a quick ceremony with local family and friends. Vanessa is extra. hehe


	10. Chapter 10

_“A steadfast beta is rarely celebrated but always appreciated.”_

Purple.

Peter wasn’t sure why the bright color surprised him so much. Alphas in upper society were always wearing such things to attract mates and flaunt their fortune. Considering all the stories Peter had heard about Wade in his youth, the stitched pattern of lizards would be just odd enough to stand out. Once upon a time, Wade enjoyed standing out.

Knowing all this and holding a representation of it in his hands were two different things. Peter ran his fingers along the smooth silk of the vest. There was a hard crease in the fabric from where it had been folded for too long, tucked away in a forgotten chest stored in the sweltering heat of the attic. Peter did his best to imagine the pieces of clothing he’d found as a full suit, fitting Wade’s frame like a glove.

“How pretty,” Peter murmured to himself.

“Why are you up there?” Wade’s muffled voice demanded before the creak of the ladder echoed through the cramped space. “Do you have any idea how hot it is?”

Peter hurried to wipe the sweat from his face with the towel wrapped around his shoulders. This way, he could claim that he was perfectly fine and be able to continue. They’d already fought over the chores, as Peter had been working nonstop, staying up late to the point of heavy bags under his eyes. Wade had called in Clint — their steadfast beta, as it were — to help out, essentially stealing most of the work Peter had been hyperfixating on.

Of course, that had ended with Peter in full cleaning mode. Not a cobweb or dust bunny had survived. Wade went from cajoling, to begging, to demanding that Peter rest. Of course, Peter declined. Vehemently. He wasn’t sure why he felt such a need to argue lately. Well, that wasn’t true. He knew that one’s body could have a hard time adjusting to syncing cycles with a mate, but he’d never experienced it before. Wade was the first alpha he’d ever lived with.

Wade’s head popped up from the access door on the floor. “Aha! I caught you!”

Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s not as if I’m hiding. I’m just tidying up.”

“I have never seen an omega nest this hard in my life,” Wade groused. “I don’t plan to rut you in every room, so stop cleaning!”

“Is that so?” Peter raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “After your recent actions, I would argue the contrary. I should be prepared.”

Wade had the decency to splutter with embarrassment. “That was different!” He climbed further up to get a better view of what Peter was looking at. He pointed an accusing finger at the trunk. “What’s the purpose of unfolding and refolding already folded clothes that nobody needs? Get out of the attic before you collapse from the heat!”

He was right, of course, but Peter’s mind scrambled for any way he could argue all the same. “Vanessa’s wedding is coming up.”

“So?” Wade sniffed. “I’m not getting those re-tailored for you. Vanessa demands you wear something new.”

“New?” Peter’s eyes widened. “A new outfit? But that’s so expensive!”

Wade fanned his shirt, the heat already getting to him. Peter refused to acknowledge the sweat trickling down the back of his own shirt or how hard it was to draw a breath in the baking air of the cramped room. “Consider it a birthday present if you have to,” Wade grumbled. “Besides, you’ll make more friends at Vanessa’s pompous party in something that’s more recent fashion.”

Peter frowned. “You could simply introduce me to people.”

“I’m not going.”

“What? What do you mean?” Peter almost dropped the purple vest. He looked down at it in his hands. Perhaps it was a bit small now… “If you don’t have the funds to have this tailored, then you shouldn’t be buying me anything!”

“I have plenty of money,” Wade dismissed, notably in the manner of someone confident in that assessment rather than defensively lying to save face. “I just have no desire to be put on display.”

“I’m quite sure the only person who will be on display is Vanessa,” Peter scolded. Abruptly, the itchy agitated feeling under his skin that had prompted him to clean the house so vigorously plummeted into something painful and lonely. “You’re not coming with me?”

Wade blanched. “Wait — don’t make that face! Listen, it’s better this way. You’ll have no fun at all if I’m — ”

“So you’re insinuating I’ll enjoy myself better as a rejected omega at a party where my mate refuses to be seen with me?”

“That's not what I mean, and you know it!”

“I don’t know anything,” Peter said, his irritation rising. He folded the vest back along its ingrained lines with jerky movements, placing it back into the trunk.

Wade climbed further into the small space and reached for Peter who deliberately jerked out of reach. It was childish behavior, Peter knew, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. In his current state, the thought of being thrown to the wolves of upper society, especially one he was completely unfamiliar with, left him filled with warring emotions. There was no Mary Jane to ease the way, and those few people in town Peter had become acquaintances with were all small shop owners or laborers.

“Also, I can’t believe you would do such a thing to Vanessa,” Peter plowed on. “How cruel of you not to be in attendance on such an important day for her.”

Wade sat on the floor and scooted his way, butt first, closer to his mate. There wasn’t much room to run, but Peter leaned away nonetheless. Wade reached out to carefully close the lid of the trunk. “Listen, you’re still new in town. Nobody knows who you are. You could tell them anything. What good will you get out of being attached to me?”

Peter turned to scowl at Wade. “Everyone knows you ordered an omega to be your mate.”

“Of course they do. This town runs on rumors.” Wade shrugged. “They’d never associate that with you, however.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re perfect.”

Peter huffed. “I’m far from that.”

“Don’t get caught up in my mess,” Wade said, his voice softening. His eyes pleaded with Peter in a way that spoke to how much he meant this. He was afraid of Peter getting swept away by Wade’s reputation. Peter thought back to the whispered things said about Wade’s bought omega at the tavern. It would be so easy to run and hide from that, to pretend to be anything but the tainted whore they all expected him to be.

But Peter had run away once already, leaving behind the belief that Wade was truly everything others thought him to be. The guilt of that still ate away at the back of his mind.

“We’re mated. We share everything now — debt, messes, rumors.”

Wade shook his head. “I’m not upset that you spent that money — ”

“And I’m not upset that you were sick.”

They stared each other down. Wade broke first, leaning his weight forward to rest atop the domed wooden lid before them. “But I don’t want to go,” he whined in such a childish way that it brought a smile to Peter’s face.

“Please?” Peter whispered, placing a hand on Wade’s damp skin.

Wade let out a long, pained groan. “If I say yes, will you leave this accursed room and let me lick the sweat off every inch of you?”

Peter’s face and libido both went up in flames. Wade’s rut was teetering on the edge of consuming them both. If Peter were honest with himself, he wouldn’t mind it starting a little early. Well, perhaps Wade wouldn’t mind.

“Fine, but as punishment for being rude enough to try and skip this wedding, you have to carry me.”

“This is not a punishment!” Wade announced with a voice far too booming for the small room. The next thing Peter knew, he was tossed over Wade’s shoulder, limbs flailing.

“I meant after we left!”

“Too late now.”

“Don’t you dare drop me! Put me down! Wade!” Peter squawked after receiving a firm slap from Wade’s broad palm to his backside. He would never admit how it made him leak and bite back a moan afterwards.

☙☀❧

It was so hot. The summer heat was oppressive and the house during the day was left unbelievably stuffy. This was made all the worse by Peter’s body fully falling into false heat. It was then compounded by Wade’s rut-hot body draped on his own. It was nearly unbearable as they exerted themselves, time and time again, soaking the fluffy sheets that felt molten against their backs after each round.

Peter lost track of how many times Wade’s eager tongue licked the sweat from his skin.

It should have been disgusting, and he said as much out loud. He chided his mate for the act and squirmed away when it happened. He kicked and protested when Wade’s face dove into too intimate places for a taste. He shivered, moaned, and refused to admit how much he didn’t hate it.

Three days in, the sweltering temperatures became too much. They found themselves in the bathroom, submerged in the large copper tub. The window was open to encourage a breeze, but all it did was suck in sultry air. The water in the tub was lukewarm at best, but that suited their burning skin. Wade was sprawled on his back, one dripped leg thrown over the side. In the space available, Peter knelt in front of his alpha. He scooped handfuls of water to pour over Wade’s chest, palms easing along the textured skin under the pretense of cleaning, though it was clear he lingered with no real focus on the task.

“Why do you keep looking at them?” Wade grumbled, one eye cracked open to scrutinize Peter’s face, bottom lip stuck out in a slight pout. “It’s too bright for this.”

Indeed the noonday sun pouring in through the windows lit up Wade’s skin. Combined with the water, the scars nearly sparkled. Peter’s languid fingers traced along the patterns they made. “Do you not like me looking?”

Wade made a nonsensical noise, likely not sure how to answer the question.

 _Have you been with anyone since you fell ill?_ The question was on the tip of Peter’s tongue, but he didn’t speak it. He didn’t want to ruin the relaxed mood by bringing up Wade’s past. Besides, he knew the answer.

 _Nobody has seen this but me._ It was silly, of course. It wasn’t as if their past lovers mattered much in the grand scheme of things. Peter knew that logically. Still, some part of him felt so satisfied to know that only he had seen _all_ of Wade as he was now. This build, this skin, every whorl and pattern, they were all for Peter’s eyes only.

It took a lot to fight back a self-satisfied smile. He knew that his alpha was sensitive about these scars and may not take well to his thoughts on the matter. He wasn’t sure there was a way to make Wade love how special this was between them, but that didn’t mean Peter was averse to trying. With a content hum, he leaned forward to drop feather-light kisses along a beautifully curving line that twisted along Wade’s shoulder.

“Having fun?” Wade asked, his voice sounding torn between resigned and aroused.

“Mm.” Peter moved his lips to drag along a thick line up Wade’s neck, feeling every little detail with the sensitive skin of his lips.

Wade’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Is this payback?”

A smile stretched Peter’s lips and he pressed it into Wade’s jaw over a knot of scar tissue. “Maybe.”

“And here I thought you wanted to pamper me.”

“I am,” Peter teased, his palms running up Wade’s abs to cup the swell the broad chest above, trailing water as he went. “I’m cleaning away all that sweat.”

“We’re just going to make more. May as well deal with it now.” Wade dropped his head to nose at Peter’s temple.

“Then maybe we should just stay here.” Peter’s eyes cut up to meet Wade’s as he sank further down, mouthing and licking at all his favorite swirling patterns. A surge of satisfaction shot through him as Wade’s breathing kicked up and his fingers gripped the sides of the tub.

“Where did you learn to be so aggressive about this?” Wade asked, a bit of a low growl tipping into his voice. Under the water, his cock was filling out again.

Peter grinned as he chin dipped into the water. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck splay and drift through the waves made as he moved. “I was given a thorough lesson in teasing not long ago.” He dipped his hands into the water and ran them along Wade’s sides. “Hours upon hours of begging. It taught me a lot of patience.”

Wade sucked in a breath, his hips squirming, though he managed not to reach for Peter — yet. “I might be regretting how fast of a learner you are, then.”

“You should.” Taking a deep breath, Peter dove below the surface and sank his teeth hard into Wade’s side. The urge to mark was coursing through him. This body, this taste, this moment, they were all his and only his. Nobody had ever experienced this version of Wade and nobody would in the future.

 _You’re all mine,_ Peter thought. Perhaps he was beginning to better understand the burning intensity behind the possessive desires that helped link their mate bond.

Abruptly, Peter was yanked up by two large hands cupping his face. Lips collided with his, opening up to devour him while water still streamed down his hair and cheeks. His lashes were heavy and laden, but it didn’t matter. He could still feel the patterns on Wade’s lips, hands and chest from where they were pressed close. The breath they shared did little to satisfy Peter’s lungs, but he couldn’t stop tasting Wade long enough to care about it.

Then, the moment was broken with the sound of scraping claws on wood, rustling feathers, and demanding screeches. They both flinched and pulled apart. Peter blinked hard to clear his eyes as he turned toward the source of the noise. There in the window was Petunia, their most demanding chicken, judging them harshly with beady eyes and a pointed cluck.

Peter laughed, unrestrained and delighted as he wrapped himself around Wade. “Sorry, but he’s not available.”

“As if she likes me anyways,” Wade grumbled, clearly upset about their building moment being interrupted. “She’s probably mad that Clint doesn’t spoil her by picking out her favorite bits of feed like you do.”

“I can’t help it. She’s cute.” Peter grinned as he snuggled further into Wade and was rewarded by those big arms wrapping him up tight.

“I thought _I_ was the cute one,” Wade quipped.

“You are,” Peter replied with so much genuine honesty that Wade turned away with a glare and a blush that only set Peter off into giddy laughter once more. He pressed loving kisses along Wade’s face. “My sweet, pretty alpha.”

“You’re a terror,” Wade grumbled as he pointedly ignored an offendedly ruffled Petunia in order to pull Peter back into a mind-numbing kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all can thank Nim for this chapter, as she was the one to talk me into adding it.


	11. Chapter 11

_“There is nothing more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as mates, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends.”_

Peter collapsed into his chair with a sigh, fiddling with the collar of his jacket in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to do since he was a child. It wasn’t mannerly or mature to tug at one’s clothing in polite society, but he’d recently become used to working around the farm in loose, breathable wear. Dressed up as he was now felt more hindering than nostalgic.

Vanessa had openly teased him for it throughout their day in town together and even now was laughing as she sat beside him at their table. Returning to the upstairs dining tables of the local tavern had felt intimidating when Vanessa first suggested it, but things had gone surprisingly well. Everyone respected or doted on her, no doubt because of her well-known wealth. Peter found that by merely being in her presence, he was also afforded such deference.

It reminded him of so much of Mary Jane that he was already composing a letter in his head to tell her about it. He had a feeling the two women would be fast friends if they ever met. Though perhaps the two of them together would be too much for the world to handle. The thought made Peter smile.

The tables around them were cluttered with people, the air filled with drifting plumes of pipe smoke. It was lively downstairs with more people in attendance as the day stretched on. Peter would need to leave soon if he didn’t want to be home after dark, but thankfully, the long summer days afforded him more time than usual. Maybe he’d take his damned coat off on the ride home. He adjusted his vest once more as he leaned back in his chair.

“Perhaps your outfit wouldn’t be so uncomfortable if you hadn’t let it out so much. It’s sliding all over you!” Vanessa laughed at the face Peter pulled in response.

“I haven’t expanded my clothing. Despite how much weight I’ve put on, I still seem to be trimming down.” Peter sighed. “I suppose farm work does that to a person. I’m all muscle now.” It wasn’t considered a popular look for an omega to be anything other than soft and pliable, but Wade seemed pleased with any form Peter took, and perhaps that was all that mattered.

“Is he starving you?” Vanessa asked in mock horror. She leaned over to rub her hand on Peter’s stomach. “I’ll need to order you two meals.”

Peter batted her hand away. “We eat well, I’ll have you know. Wade produces enough food for an army. I only recently discovered his backup canning room overfilled with every vegetable one can imagine lining the walls. I’ve never seen so much pickling in my life.”

He expected some quick comeback, as both Vanessa and Wade always had some anecdote at the ready to quip in regards to the other. However, there was an unusual silence. Peter tilted his head at Vanessa’s carefully expressionless face as she pulled out her fan.

“Something wrong?” Peter asked.

“Hm?” Vanessa turned to him with a bright smile as she fluttered her fan, half obscuring her features. “I’m simply wonderful, darling. Thoughts of my mating night accost me spontaneously, is all.”

Peter clamped down on his embarrassment. The woman had no shame. “We’re in public,” he sternly reminded, lowering his voice.

“What of you two? Have your cycles been aligning well?”

Peter fought off a blush and failed. He fiddled with his coattails and did his best not to scowl at the tabletop. That would only call more attention. “Wade’s rut was early, and I fell into false heat alongside with no issues, if you must know. That’s two successful runs with no problems. We’re perfectly fine.” It was better to cut to the chase with Vanessa’s blunt questioning lest she spend hours needling him about why he was so reticent to supply her with information. It was no wonder she knew about everyone’s personal business.

Vanessa hummed a pleased note, but her fan fluttered faster, and her eyes went distant for a moment. It was obvious that she was thinking of something — something that she didn’t want to share, even with a slip in her expression. Peter didn’t think it had anything to do with her own future in regards to heats and ruts lining up, it was merely a convenient excuse that was always successful in throwing him off. However, before he could think of a way to pick the truth out of a gossip expert, Vanessa abruptly changed the topic.

“I plan to have dancing at my wedding, you know.” Her fan snapped shut. “Nothing stuffy, of course. I so very much enjoyed learning the waltz, but tango is my passion. My parents had a fit when I brought it up, but this certainly isn’t _their_ wedding, now is it? Do you know how to waltz?”

Just like that, Peter was swept away in a conversation regarding dances. Perhaps he was overthinking it. Vanessa was rightly distracted by her upcoming wedding and was doing her best to be polite and not talk about only herself overly much. Peter didn’t mind. She had been planning this for so long, it made sense that she was so preoccupied by it now that the days were counting down to the grand event.

If Peter were honest, he was looking forward to it himself. He could hardly remember the last proper party he’d attended. Not to mention, he’d finally get to see Wade dressed like a proper gentleman. Peter knew they’d stand out, what with Wade’s past and his current appearance. Still, nobody would dare say anything rude at Vanessa’s wedding. That would be tantamount to suicide if the bride-to-be ever caught wind of it.

Surprisingly, despite Vanessa’s need to control every detail alongside Wade’s reluctance to be seen in public, both had agreed that Peter needed a new outfit for the wedding, and it needed to make a statement. Wade had authorized Vanessa to spend as much as needed, and Peter had suffered through the longest tailoring visit of his life. Vanessa had insisted on seeing every fabric the poor tailor owned. Peter hadn’t wanted anything too vibrant, but he’d been overruled.

Deep down inside, his omega was happy with the final choices made. He had always found his desire to be seen as a touch narcissistic, but it was ten times worse when he considered how Wade might look at him. Perhaps it was normal to want the eyes of his alpha to stay only on him. A tiny smile tugged at his lips as he thought of it.

“I thought you were reading the news!” someone on the other side of the room shouted. The employee announcing the paper to the room cut himself off in surprise. The man who had interrupted continued. “Giant contraptions that can harvest as fast as ten men? That’s nothing but a tall tale. How dare they peddle such tripe.”

Vanessa scoffed and rolled her eyes as the room’s noise crescendoed, everyone having their own opinion on the topic. “Idiots, the lot of them.” She took a sip of her drink before a downright evil grin overtook her face. “Those who don’t look to the future will be left behind.”

Thankfully, their food was delivered a moment later, saving Peter from attempting to sidestep that discussion. He’d learned the hard way not to debate business ventures with Vanessa. He’d be here all night and half the next day if he did. And, well, he’d much rather go home tonight and curl up in Wade’s arms. If that made him sound like a simplistic omega… Well, so be it.

☙☀❧

Vanessa was married in the last fading days of summer when the temperature wasn’t sweltering enough to kill, but warm enough for her elaborate garden to still be in bloom. She stood among the arches and trellises of flowers and ribbons in a white silk dress embroidered with colorful butterflies taking flight from the hem. Wrapped around her chest were silk flowers so vibrant that a hummingbird had flitted by her in curiosity, causing her whole face to light up with laughter. Down the long train that trailed behind her were an array of flower petals, the thread of which glinted in the bright noonday sun. Sheer butterfly sleeves easily caught the light and wind, giving her an ethereal look. The brim of the hat she wore was so wide and stacked with silk blooms, that Wade was expecting it to decapitate the groom at any moment.

It was a beautiful ceremony, Wade had to admit, but he had no intention of staying for the reception. He was surrounded by old peers he hadn’t seen in years, and the only reason he wasn’t being stared at more than expected was simply because it would be rude to look at anyone other than the bride at a wedding. Which was why he found himself baffled at how a single excited look from Peter about the upcoming dancing had Wade abandoning his plans to run away.

“She looks beautiful,” Peter said as they stood off to the side and watched as Vanessa greeted her guests now that a ring was solidly in place on her finger.

Wade had never considered rings. Most farmworkers didn’t have them because they were too expensive, but that excuse didn’t work for him. He’d dropped a fair bit of money on getting a formal outfit and winter coat made for Peter, so it was clear he had funds to spend. He looked down at Peter’s long fingers and frowned. Did Peter want a ring? He’d never mentioned it. Then again, he rarely asked for anything outside of necessities. Perhaps it was a byproduct of growing up with such limited income. As Peter’s alpha, Wade should probably ask about these thing —

“Don’t frown at my wedding!” Wade looked up to see Vanessa’s amused yet scolding face, her hands propped against the puffed hips of her dress.

“I’m thinking about the tragedy of being named Warren Kenneth Worthington III,” Wade easily shot back. “And the further tragedy of marrying such a name.”

This time, Warren frowned. “I hate to agree with you about literally anything, but seeing as how I took the Carlysle name because three generations was too much for me, I can’t argue.”

“You? Not arguing? Never!”

Warren gritted his teeth. He was usually more than ready to fall into an argument with Wade, so likely, he’d been threatened not to do so on the wedding day. Wade couldn’t help picking at Warren. The man had always been jealous of Wade even after seeing the marks that marred him, but that was Vanessa’s fault. She wasn’t quiet about how she’d never stopped loving Wade in her own way despite reluctantly falling for Warren’s charm.

For a long time, Wade had determined that Warren was a knock off version of his old self. With that chiseled alpha jaw, bright blue eyes, and blonde hair, everyone in town had whispered about it. A lesser man would have walked away from such persistent rumors. A lesser alpha would have gone into a possessive rage about it. Warren had done neither. He’d simply stood his ground and focused on proving to Vanessa that he didn’t want to control her, but rather, allow her sharp mind to flourish with all the support he could provide.

Admittedly, Wade had relented that Warren was the best possible mate Vanessa could find. That didn’t mean he would stop pestering the guy. It was far too much fun.

Warren leaned a little closer to Vanessa as his eyes flicked to Peter. “I don’t believe I’ve met your omega.”

Peter took the opportunity to introduce himself. He looked perfectly polite, but Wade knew from the crinkling around those copper eyes that Peter was struggling to contain his laughter. He’d never acted jealous of Wade and Vanessa in the way that Warren always did. Wade had about two seconds of feeling happy about that realization before his alpha side was shouting, “Why not?” on repeat. Wade shifted his weight as he tried to control his sudden need to mark the shit out of Peter in front of all of Vanessa’s poor guests. Warren must have noticed, for he had a triumphant smirk on his lips as he bowed over Peter’s hand.

Vanessa rolled her eyes at the both of them before stepping forward to drop a kiss on both Wade and Peter’s cheeks. “You two look lovely together, as I knew you would.” She beamed at the outfits before her.

Wade’s was nothing new. He’d had it for years, and it was one of the few he’d kept after moving to the farm. The suit was a layering of deep blues and teals with pops of sky blue to catch the eye. Vanessa had always said that it reminded her of the ocean, where the water was deep and the waves were never-ending. “It makes you appear as if you have depth,” she’d always teased. (Insults happened to be their love language.)

So leave it to her to find a suit for Peter that not only matched, but stood out as one of the nicest among the crowd. His blue coat fell to his ankles, dark at the bottom but lightening as it rose to the collar. On the back, embroidered in white, were stylized waves that crashed over one shoulder. “Since Peter is where your waves break,” Vanessa had explained over the phone one night. Wade wasn’t sure what that meant, but Peter looked amazing in it, so he didn’t argue.

“The violinists are taking a break before moving into the ballroom,” Vanessa informed before her eyes cut to Wade. “I do hope you remember _how_ to dance.”

“Why are you being suspicious of me?” Wade shot back. He pointed at his mate. “What about him?”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “I’m well educated in all possible dances and have used those skills far more recently than you.”

“So you _have_ been sneaking out to dance in the moonlight with Arthur this whole time. I knew it!”

Startling such a pure, carefree laugh from Peter was worth dealing with this entire trip. Wade knew his face looked dopey and enchanted, but he couldn’t stop himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vanessa’s indulgent smile.

“Drink and be merry,” she commanded. “You don’t have to be in a rush to leave. I have rooms set aside for those wanting to head out in the morning. The servants are prepared to make a large breakfast, and I’m sure Clint wouldn’t mind getting paid to stay on your farm a bit longer.”

“You’re too kind,” Peter replied with an excited glint in his eye that told Wade they were definitely going to be staying late. He may as well resign himself to being trapped here and put on display for all the guests to gawk at as they sipped champagne.

An hour later, after Wade sent his mate to join one of the big traditional group dances, he snuck away to a balcony. As big as the ballroom was, it felt stifling. The longer he was in there, the more he tugged at his collar and struggled to fill his lungs. Most of the guests kept their distance, but a few old acquaintances had come to greet him as if it truly was nice to see him again, including Momma Frigga, who was just as doting on him as ever.

He wasn’t sure what was worse: the people who studiously ignored him, the ones overtly staring at him, or the people who treated him as if nothing was different. Each grated on him in unexpected ways, and he didn’t know how to handle it. Peter would at least be better off alone as some unknown guest rather than the mate to the town freak. Wade sighed and leaned his forearms against the railing before him. His warped hands were framed by the bursting life of the gardens beyond. He couldn’t help but stare at them in numb resignation.

 _I should be used to this by now,_ he thought to himself. _It’s not like packing away the mirrors made me prettier somehow._

Peter acting as if he didn’t see the taboo mark that branded Wade as ugly inside and out didn’t change anything. It didn’t change the opinion of the townspeople. It didn’t change Wade’s opinion of himself. He was just stuck like this. Forever.

“Why are you hiding?”

Wade turned to see his mate walking up to him. Peter’s hair was breaking free of the pomade it had been slicked back with, the tips curling up in a flattering way. His cheeks were flushed with exertion, a smile still playing on his lips. It was so painfully obvious how much he missed this world Wade had abandoned. Tugging the gloves from his pocket, Wade slipped them back on, hiding away that much more of his shame from prying eyes.

“Why are you looking for me instead of having fun?” Wade returned with a smirk he hoped hid his emotions.

“Because it would be _fun_ to dance with my mate.” Peter walked over to lean back against the railing Wade occupied, his back to the beauty of the world beyond. Instead, his eyes were fixed on Wade, as if that was somehow a preferable sight. “Is something wrong?”

Wade should deny it. He should come up with any excuse to send his mate back and not ruin this day for the both of them. He should be a strong alpha that stood tall in the face of opposition. He should provide whatever his omega wanted to make sure Peter would stay. Or at the very least, he should say _anything at all_ rather than continue this strained and suspicious silence.

Peter’s long fingers slid into Wade’s leather-covered hand and squeezed. “A waltz is coming up. Few people here are brave enough to dance it. Are you going to deny me this request?”

“You wish to ‘delight our friends’ by showing off our skills?” Wade teased.

“No.” Peter grinned in a wicked way that Wade had never seen before. “I wish to confound our enemies.”

Dazed by the sight of this unknown side of Peter, Wade let himself be pulled along and back to the ballroom. His shoulders tightened immediately as he felt eyes burn into him. They must all be questioning why such a lovely omega was touching Wade. _Shit, I wish I could wear a mask._ As if that would have been any less suspicious.

Peter chose an empty expanse of floor. Indeed, there were only three other couples including Vanessa that were finding their positions during the opening flourish of the song. Wade swallowed hard as his arm automatically fell into position, his body still remembering the years of dancing he’d once done. His heart squeezed strangely as Peter’s hand rested upon one shoulder, the other tucking neatly into Wade’s palm.

“Are you sure about this?” Wade asked, his mind screaming at him to hide away from all those watching him. “It would be easier for you if nobody knew who you were mated — ” Wade stumbled after being pushed into the first steps of the dance by his stubborn omega.

“I know exactly what people say about the omega who mated you,” Peter said, his chin up and tilted at a perfect angle. He was definitely showing off that he’d learned to waltz not from happenstance but through formal education.

“Then why are we putting on a show?” Wade asked as he took large strides through a turn just to watch the waves of color on Peter’s coat flare and twirl with the momentum.

“If given nothing to talk about, people will come up with their own narrative.” Peter gracefully stepped back into a hold so captivating that Wade couldn’t tear his eyes away. “After putting some thought into it, I’ve decided that _we_ should control what’s said about us.”

“There’s no way to control every word said,” Wade warned. “Some people are cruel. Their only entertainment is making up lies to spread.” He knew that from experience.

“Those would have happened in either case.”

They stepped into a series of spins that lit up Peter’s face with a smile so pure and joyful that Wade didn’t want to stop. He wanted to keep them spinning in only each other’s orbit, the world around them a nonsensical blur that was unable to affect them. He wanted this single moment to last forever.

It couldn’t, but he found that he didn’t mind as Peter arched his back into a brilliant dip, stretching his neck long and baring it so beautifully to his alpha that it looked sinful. There were a few not-so-subtle gasps from the guests that had Wade preening. This was his omega. This lovely, elegant, smart, stubborn man had chosen Wade time and again. Now, everyone could see that, plain as day.

When Peter stood straight, his cheek came close to Wade’s own, his lips whispering warm air into Wade’s ear. “I want everyone to see. I want them to know that you are _mine._ I want them to understand how much they lost when you left.”

Wade’s breath caught in his throat. He was in a daze as the song came to an end, his feet nearly fumbling to a stop. Instead of pulling back into a bow, Peter kept them standing close. He brought their linked hands up to his neck, pressing Wade’s wrist over the gland at his neck. His other hand slid along Wade’s shoulder and up to cup his jaw, his own wrist pressed against and marking Wade’s gland.

It wasn’t the most scandalous or intimate thing Wade had ever done in public, far from it, but for some reason, this felt heavier than any of the times before. He was captured by Peter’s molten eyes, unable to look away. In that moment, the only thing that mattered was the bond between them. Wade had expected it to be a flimsy thing when he finally became aware of it, but he was surprised at how strong and steady it already was.

“Oh,” Wade murmured in sudden realization, blinking owlishly at his mate. “I’m in love with you.”

The smile Peter returned rivaled the sun. “Then we’re finally on the same page, _my alpha_.”

Wade had never been more turned on outside of a rut in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tango and Waltz were considered scandalous by many back in the Gilded Age, but they were extremely popular, especially among the younger crowd. So of course Vanessa wanted that at her wedding. She’s trendy, after all! lol


	12. Chapter 12

_“Too often are blissful days interrupted by painful storms. But behind the clouds, the sun remains.”_

Most of the canning had been done over the summer, which meant many days of boiling jars in the sweltering summer heat. Peter had been so drenched in sweat on those days, that his clothing had been near-transparent where it clung to him. Wade had taken advantage of that multiple times, though Peter found he didn’t mind such attention. At the very least, it gave him a much more enjoyable reason to be hot and sweaty. 

As the season tipped into fall, harvesting became a primary focus. Clint came to help multiple times, and Peter devoted himself to cleaning and preparing everything they brought him. He pickled so many things he was sure the already full storage room in the cellar would burst. He also worked on jerkying as much meat as possible and making soap in the afternoons as the days began to shorten.

Time passed so quickly that it was well into autumn before Peter realized it. This was the time to spend with family, and Peter expected some trip to happen in order to finally meet the rest of the Wilsons. However, day after day, Wade never mentioned anything about it. When Peter finally brought it up at dinner one night, the answer wasn’t what he expected.

“It’s probably a little late to get a train ticket for your aunt,” Wade mused. “But if it’s a mild winter, we could bring her down then, or maybe a trip in the spring if she can manage.”

“That would be amazing,” Peter said and meant it. He missed Aunt May so much, and just the thought of seeing her again had his stomach fluttering with excitement. But…

“What of your family?”

“They’re out of state. It’s too much trouble to see them. I get letters occasionally.” Wade shrugged. “Speaking of letters, Vanessa invited us to a harvest festival. You know how I feel, but if you want to go, we can.”

Peter did indeed know how Wade felt. He acted as if being lonely didn’t bother him, but he missed people. If Wade was estranged from his family, however casually that may be, then Vanessa and Peter were the closest he had.

“I’d love to go,” Peter said.

“I thought so.” Wade offered a soft smile that made something inside Peter melt a little. He wasn’t sure when things had shifted between them, but they had. They were closer these days, warmer. Peter had even written home about how happy he was with his grumpy, silly, unpredictable mate.

But Vanessa’s reasons for choosing Peter still clung to his thoughts. Wade would never be happy here all alone, and neither would Peter. The time they spent together now was wonderful, but the appeal would wear off sooner rather than later. Was forcing Wade to step back into his old life the right thing to do? Vanessa certainly thought so, for she was constantly inviting them both to some event.

Did Peter think it best? He felt the weight of people’s questions and gossip follow him in town ever since the wedding. He never mentioned it to Wade, though it likely wouldn’t come as a surprise even if he did. That kind of environment wasn’t one that could bloom into something happy, either. It was easier to go back home and hide away in the newly mated bliss they were experiencing.

 _That’s no excuse to not think of the future,_ Peter scolded himself. Eventually, he would need to strike upon a solution.

☙☀❧

Peter discovered that the harvest festival Vanessa held was secretly an excuse to announce her pregnancy. She certainly wasted no time, planning her wedding to be right before her heat followed by a party to share the news. It also meant that if she hadn’t become pregnant, the party would have continued with none the wiser. The chances of that would have been extremely low, but there was no reason to tempt fate.

Wade was as uncomfortable now as he had been during the wedding. He wore red and black this time, the ruby vest containing a subtle shimmer of hand-sewn blooms. He looked stunning in it, though it was clear he didn’t think so, most likely comparing himself to when he’d worn it before his sickness. Peter did his best to stay by his mate’s side, but he was slightly giddy from the cheerful atmosphere and excited to talk to those that had been happy to make acquaintances of him after the last time he’d visited the Carlysle manor.

As the day wore on, more people left with full bellies, and Wade relaxed inch by inch. By late afternoon, Warren was tasked with keeping the rest of the guests occupied while Vanessa pulled Peter and Wade into a cozy sitting room for tea. Thankfully, a maid had brewed said tea rather than Vanessa herself.

“Ahh, I’ve been so busy lately. It’s nice to take a moment to relax,” Vanessa lamented as she propped her feet on a footstool.

“Eventually, you’ll have to delegate instead of doing it all yourself,” Wade scolded. He slipped off his gloves and tucked them into his pocket. Peter smiled into his tea. “You’ll be too fat to chase people around like you’re used to.”

“I should wash your mouth out with soap,” Vanessa shot back.

“What?” Wade asked with false innocence. “I’m sure Warren will love rubbing your swollen feet as you order people around.”

Peter couldn’t help but choke on a snicker. The looks the two of them were giving each other was pure comedy.

Vanessa flipped her hair over a shoulder with a haughty sniff before placing one hand atop her stomach. She wasn’t showing yet, at least not through how well cut her current dress was, but of course, she was only a few weeks in. “I plan to have the best doctors attend me, so there will be no hideous swelling.”

Wade snorted. “Ya jinxed yourself now.”

“I’m certain pregnancy will suit you,” Peter chipped in and earned a glowing smile from Vanessa.

“Thank you, dear.” She paused to take another sip of tea, her smile fading a bit before perking back up. Setting her cup aside, she pulled out her fan despite how cool the house was in the current season. “The doctor arrives in the morning for my first examination.”

“Already?” Wade asked.

“I want everything to go perfectly.” Her eyes slipped over to Peter, and he could see her thinking about something, which wasn’t usually a good sign. “Would you two like to stay the night?”

“What? You need emotional support?” Wade scoffed. “Your mate will be jealous.”

Vanessa’s fan fluttered away, obscuring her face. “When was the last time you saw a doctor? It would behoove you to take advantage of the opportunity.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “I’m as healthy as a horse.”

“I wasn’t referring to you.”

Peter felt as if the air rushed out of the room all at once. “What?” he breathed.

“Why?” Wade followed up, his voice suddenly sounding overly loud in the small room. “Is there something happening I don’t know about?” Wade turned concerned eyes to Peter.

“Don’t be oblivious, Wade.” Vanessa snapped her fan shut with a stern look before turning to Peter. “You don’t have to be in heat to get pregnant, but heat is a sure thing. How many has it been since you’ve been with Wade? Are you having any other symptoms that you’re not telling us about?”

Peter knew what she was asking. He knew it too well. Harry’s voice echoed in the back of his head. _“Have you had a miscarriage? Why are you hiding that from me?”_

Was it all going to happen again? No, he didn’t want that. He was happy here. Happy with Wade! No, no, no —

“Peter?” Vanessa’s voice cut through his panic, though it did little for the cold, numb feeling spreading from his fingertips. “You can tell us if someth —”

“Nothing’s wrong!” Peter shot out of his seat and away from Vanessa’s reaching hand and Wade’s concerned eyes. “I’m fine!”

“You _are_ healthy,” Vanessa agreed, her tone soft and placating in a way that prickled painfully along his nerves. “The doctor would simply determine —”

“I don’t need anything determined! Nothing’s wrong with me!” He backed a few paces away. “I just want to go home.”

“Peter…”

It was a mistake to look up at Wade’s soft voice. There was a look in his eyes — a growing understanding. Peter may have been poor, but he’d lived in the city and had connections. If he was willing to give himself over to any alpha that would see him and Aunt May into a better life, why not do it there where he had friends and resources? It was a question Wade should have asked long ago and hadn’t.

 _“You understand, don’t you?”_ Harry’s voice asked, dredged up from the past after Peter had spent so long burying those memories. _“It doesn’t matter how much I love you if you can’t…”_

Chest tight and eyes burning, Peter turned and fled the room. He ran aimlessly, not fully familiar with the house and grounds, but also not caring if he got lost. He wanted to be lost, in fact. He didn’t want anyone to find him and ask him what was happening. Escaping the rumors of the city was supposed to be the end of it. There had been no proof. It could have been either one of them!

_Mary Jane never mentions Harry in her letter. She’s so careful about it._

Peter was forced to stop running when his lungs rebelled. The air was cool and full of pollen from the turning leaves. His chest rattled hard as he coughed and fought for breath. He stumbled along until he found something to sit upon. Feeling the raw wood grain under his fingers, he realized it was likely not a bench. Wiping his eyes clear, he could finally see the stack of wood under him and the half-constructed barn to his left.

 _I have no idea where I am,_ Peter mused to himself and fought back a hysterical laugh. He sighed, but it only triggered another fit. His throat was burning by the time it finally settled down.

Well, it didn’t matter if he was lost. He was still on the Carlysle property and any workers who saw him could give him instructions back to the house — or the barn where horses were. Peter wanted to go home so bad his chest ached. He wanted to undo this entire day and pretend it never happened. He wanted to go back to ignoring the inevitable.

Wiping tears from his cheeks, Peter took careful deep breaths and fought to get his emotions back in check. For now, he could simply exist in this moment away from everything and everyone. He gazed at the land around him, dotted with neat rows of farmland and trees in the orchard, limbs gathering the golden sun to shine through red leaves. There were ups and downs to both city and country life, but Peter was forced to admit that he preferred the views here better than any he’d seen among the tall, cluttered buildings.

Wind crashed through the fields of high grass like the rolling waves of the ocean. Overtop, leaves and chickadees danced around each other, darting this way and that. The bright blue sky and pink tinted clouds were a vibrant backdrop to it all. It was so easy to gaze at it all and let his thoughts drift away. For this moment, he could ignore everything else. For right now, he let himself be pulled into the slow pace of the waving branches and stayed there, suspended in time, where nothing could hurt him.

“Peter?”

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there gazing at the setting sun, but he wasn’t surprised to hear Wade’s soft voice behind him. He didn’t move. He didn’t feel like he could if he wanted to keep this spot of serene calm. How else would he make it through this conversation?

Peter swallowed. _No point in avoiding it. Just get it over with._

“When I was seventeen, I met an alpha,” he said and was proud at how steady his voice was. “We fell fast and hard. I thought I’d be with him forever. Love overcomes all, right?” He closed his eyes and allowed himself to think of Harry’s loving, smiling face for the first time in a long time. “It wasn’t just that we were from different classes or that he was rich and my family was barely surviving. He didn’t care about all of that. The problem was…his father was the governor.”

To Wade’s credit, he didn’t say anything. Most people, upon hearing that, would shake their heads and say, “What did you think would happen?”

“We were together for nearly two years. He grew desperate, though I didn’t realize at the time what he was doing. In all my naive youth, I believed him when he said that he wanted to help me through my heats only because he loved me. Of course he was trying to get me pregnant. It was his only shot to force his family’s hand, but there was no guarantee that it would work. I wouldn’t have agreed, if I’d known. A poor, unmated omega with a child? I would have had no chance in higher society after that.”

Mary Jane had held Peter close while he cried and then scolded him for weeks after about his stupidity. He’d deserved it, utterly and completely, so he couldn’t blame her. She’d been terrified for him. She hadn’t brought up the idea of a new mate again until he’d been seriously looking into laying down tracks. He was determined to find good work or die trying, and she’d been convinced it would be the latter.

“He left me, I’m sure you’ve realized,” Peter said, his voice going softer as he tried hard to keep emotion from leaking through. His eyes fixed back onto the orange and red leaves, hoping to find that serene sense of calm once more. “I didn’t see a doctor. It could have been either one of us, or simply how our bodies interacted. He was under a lot of stress, and I was still growing accustomed to my damaged lungs, so perhaps it was just bad timing. It could have been anything. So long as I had no diagnosis, no tests, no professional opinion, then it would stay an unknown.”

Peter folded his hands together and squeezed, swallowing hard on the knot in his throat. Was Wade disappointed? He hadn’t discussed children at all, but every alpha expected it to happen eventually. He was certainly thinking about it now — about how his big house would continue to stay lonely with just the two of them working the farm until they couldn’t anymore. Wasn’t Peter supposed to change things? Wasn’t he supposed to make Wade happy again?

“It could be me,” Wade said.

Peter shook his head. “That isn’t a side effect of —”

“It doesn’t matter.” Wade’s clothing rustled, indicating that he was moving somehow, but Peter didn’t turn to look. “I haven’t even thought about kids, ya know? I’ve been too focused on how happy I am with _you._ So it’s fine.”

“Then why did you build rooms for them?” Peter whispered.

There was a long silence. Wade couldn’t back out of that one. They both knew what that farmhouse was supposed to be. Peter had arrived offering the life Wade had given up on, but now he couldn’t deliver on the promise.

“I’m a failure as an ome —”

“No!”

Peter flinched at Wade’s sudden shout. He blinked only to find Wade’s intense blue eyes abruptly before him, scarred hands cupping his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying again until Wade’s thumbs gently brushed the tears away.

“You’re perfect,” Wade said with such conviction that a sob caught in Peter’s chest. “Right now, just the way you are, you’re perfect, and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“But —”

“I want _you_ — in any way I can have you. Everything else can be determined later. I just want you, happy and healthy, with me. I love you, remember?”

Peter began to tremble and found himself pulled into Wade’s arms. He tucked his face into one broad shoulder and allowed himself to cry and be held. He’d told himself and everyone that he’d healed and recovered from what had happened with Harry, but right now, that wound deep inside felt raw and fresh. All this time, he hadn’t realized how afraid he was of being left again, of how much of himself he’d been holding back in fear of getting hurt once more.

“You’re my sun,” Wade murmured as he held Peter close. “No amount of clouds will make me forget that. Rain all you want. I’ll wait for you.”

“Is this really the time to be poetic?” Peter asked, but the words were practically nonsensical between his tight throat and clogged nose. Still, Wade wasn’t usually one for flowery words. Why did he have to be romantic now of all times? What a ridiculous alpha Peter had ended up with.

 _My alpha,_ Peter thought to himself and was surprised at how solid those words felt. For all his previous fears, his desire to keep himself safe, his heart had run off and established a permanent foothold with Wade’s. They were together now, inseparable, and prepared to weather any storms.

“I love you,” Peter said. Whether or not the words were coherent, Wade must have understood, for he brought Peter’s lips to his and kissed away the pain deep inside Peter until none of it remained.

☙☀❧

In the end, both Peter and Wade agreed to stay and see the doctor to know once and for all. It should have been expected that a diagnosis wasn’t that easy to obtain. There was no definitive answer that could be given, but the doctor didn’t foresee there being a good chance of children between the two of them. “There will always be a chance,” she’d said, “but I caution you not to plan your future around hope alone.” If, once their heats and ruts aligned, and still nothing happened, then it was suggested that they look into the possibility of adoption.

It was a strange sort of relief to finally hear the answer. With both Wade and Vanessa’s support, Peter found that the truth wasn’t as scary as he’d built it up to be in his head. A lack of pregnancy didn’t make them a bad match. They loved each other, and that was what was important. This conviction only grew stronger as Peter’s late fall heat was pulled into early winter by Wade’s rut. They were syncing up. Though Peter’s stomach remained flat, they were happy.

 _Adoption would work well for us,_ Peter found himself thinking on more than one occasion. The idea of providing a home to children that didn’t have one pulled at something deep in his omega instincts. Filling the farm with children of all ages would provide the life their empty house needed. The more he thought about it, the more he noticed how quiet it was with just the two of them. Peter’s instincts wanted something more.

That change he yearned for began in an unexpected way.

After the new year came news that Clint had lost the attic room he’d been renting at a neighboring farm. The family had had twins and needed the extra space. Peter jumped on the opportunity. If they couldn’t comfortably enter the society around town, and a growing family would need more time and effort to obtain, then why not build a community here? Clint was only one person, but he could be the start of something more.

“We have the room, and you always need help on the farm,” Peter insisted.

“But I like being alone!” Wade grumbled as he hauled slop to the pigs, his breath puffing in the frigid air.

Peter set a large, earthen jug on his hip. He’d added some boiling water from the kettle to it, but it did little to stop the icy chill caused by the outdoor spigot from seeping through his clothes. He hurried after Wade, continuing to make his point while filling the animals’ water troughs. “And if we do adopt? What then? I’ll be too busy with them to help!”

“I’ve managed this farm on my own before.”

“Oh yes, I simply _love_ the idea of you never spending time with me or your children because you work nonstop.”

Wade grumbled but didn’t have an immediate comeback to that.

“The two of you get along. I don’t see a problem with having a more permanent farmhand. He can work part-time for room and board, still tend to his paid odd jobs at the other farms, and he can even bring a cartful of your pickling to town and sell it! Perhaps then we’d only need two additional rooms to contain it all.”

“I like to be prepared!”

“You’re prepared enough for an army.” Peter emptied out his jug and turned to Wade. “You have room in the stables for his mules as well. Honestly, it’s a perfect setup.”

Wade set down his pale with a frown before rubbing the back of his neck. A plume of breath rose from his nostrils like a dragon before he spoke. “I’m not used to having people around.”

“It’s only Clint. It will be fine,” Peter reassured. He walked over and rose to his toes to drop a kiss on Wade’s cheek. “Give it some thought.”

“You know, if there’s always someone in the house, I won’t be able to bend you over the phone again.”

Peter slammed his jug into Wade’s backside, earning him a satisfying yelp. “Then it’s settled because that is _certainly_ never happening again!”

Wade laughed as he rubbed his sore butt cheek. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

As Peter stomped his way back to the spigot, he threw a rude gesture over his shoulder, which only made Wade laugh all the more. Still, this conversation looked to be a win for Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus! Sketch of Vanessa's wedding dress~
> 
> *side eyes A:AoU and that terrible Natasha plot and how Bruce _awkwardly walked away without a word_ * Ahem. Anywho. Wade is a good boy and responds to an emotional fertility crisis appropriately. /salt


	13. Chapter 13

_“For what the soul needs, an alpha may search the world, a beta may build a monument, but the omega knows that love resides at home.”_

Peter decided there were tales that were better off not being relayed in his letters back home. The current situation being one of those.

Wade slammed his hand down on the table strewn with papers, wrinkling bits here and smudging ink there. The table creaked as he leaned forward, partially lifting from his chair to yell in Vanessa’s unimpressed face. “You did _what_ with my money?”

“Increased your profits threefold, if you haven’t been paying attention,” Vanessa shot back. “Honestly, Wade, it’s as if you’ve forgotten all of your investment education. What? Did you lose it somewhere in the pig shit?”

“Wade, this is _our_ table. Please don’t break it,” Peter said, his voice calm but with a definite warning as he snatched up teacups in order to relocate them to the kitchen.

“This isn’t an investment!” Wade smacked the papers under him with the back of his hand. A few pages scattered onto the floor. “This is money poured into some too-expensive contraption.”

“All investments have risk,” Vanessa lectured. She snatched a paper from the table before it could slide off to join the others. “This has been tested. It works. You’re the last stop to prove this is a worthwhile purchase that will earn money — not just for you, for every farmer. This will change agriculture completely.”

“You’ve been scammed, and now you’re foisting it off onto me!” Wade threw his hands in the air before jabbing a finger in Vanessa’s face. “Witch! Charlatan! Thief!”

Peter shook his head and marveled at how accustomed he’d grown to Vanessa and Wade’s unique style of banter and arguments. The same could not be said of Warren who growled deep and threatening as he rose from his seat. “Back away from my mate.”

“I can say what I want to _the person who stole my money_!”

Peter let out an aggrieved sigh as he returned from the kitchen. “Boys, please. You’re both getting too worked up.”

Warren, unsurprisingly, was too focused on Wade to address Peter. “I will not have you tossing out insults to my mate _or_ the woman you entrusted with your money because you couldn’t be arsed to handle things yourself. She has made all of the money invested in this project, so what difference does it make to you?” Warren stood straight and tall, clearly taking pains to control his temper. His effort could be seen in the trembling of his hands, a stark contrast to Wade’s flailing limbs as he ranted.

“I don’t want anything to do with this shit!” Wade snapped. “And stay out of it. This has nothing to do with you.”

Vanessa’s icy glare at Wade deliberately transformed into a sultry smile as she turned to her mate. “Darling, do you know what it would do to me if you utterly dominated another alpha?” She dragged one finger along her bottom lip, eyes burning. In her own way, she was just as protective of Warren as he was of her. However, it was clear that she was far more aggressive than he ever allowed himself to be. That is, he _would_ have been perfectly restrained without her instigating his more base urges.

Wade growled. “Like hell I’ll let you scruff me, you powder-nosed — ”

“SUBMIT!”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose as both alphas hit the floor in a mess of grappling limbs. He frowned at Vanessa. “Was that necessary?”

Vanessa shrugged as she sat back in her seat. “Maybe they’ll get it out of their systems now. Either way, I get a break from Wade’s nonsense.”

“You’re just as bad as he is,” he scolded but couldn’t help the quirk of his lips. Peter didn’t want to agree with her, but he couldn’t deny that alphas were simple creatures sometimes. He set about cleaning up the strewn papers before the two alphas could cause any more damage to them. He winced when he heard Wade slam into the couch with a heavy thump.

Peter shuffled through the stack he held as he ignored the battling alpha grunts and snarls while scanning the schematics of machinery he barely understood. “You said the operation of these would be simple. This hardly looks simple.”

“Simplicity for the user means complicated construction. Just look at the inside of your phone if you don’t believe me.” Vanessa shuffled through some of the designs and held one out to him. “These are the controls and all you need to learn.”

“Equipment requires maintenance as well,” Peter murmured as he looked over the array of knobs and levers.

“Are you saying that you can’t figure it out?” Vanessa challenged.

“Of course I could.” Peter pushed his shoulders back. “I may not have finished my schooling, but I would have passed all the testing if they’d allowed me to.”

The two alphas slammed into the far wall. It set the dogs to barking outside, and their increasing volume indicated that they had run up to the house. A few seconds later, Peter could see their heads jumping up to peek through the windows before falling back out of sight in yipping white and yellow blurs.

“I don’t care which of you uses the monstrosities, as long as one of you does,” Vanessa said. Her hands rested against the small bump of her growing belly, rubbing circles into her skin. Lacking a fan — Warren had banned the use of it during the cold weather, fearing she’d make herself sick — she’d taken to other habits to work out her agitation. Peter always did his best to feel happy for her health rather than obsess over his own circumstances when he saw it.

To distract himself, he stacked everything back into a neat pile on the table. “I don’t know if this is the best place to test such large scale production. Wade only has the one field for planting. Do you mean for him to cut down the hay field as well? I suppose it’s true that he’s had hardly any time to tend to it…”

Vanessa scoffed. “Hasn’t he told you what his property lines are?”

“What do you mean?” Peter dodged a stray kick before taking a seat beside her. “Doesn’t it stop at the woods and the end of the hay field?”

“Ha! I can’t believe he never discussed this with you.” She leaned forward as if they were about to gossip, though it was more likely she was simply trying to be heard over the screaming without yelling herself. “He inherited all this acreage from his grandfather. None of his family wanted it. He owns everything from the border of the Smith’s farm to the border of the river. In fact, he sold the Smiths that parcel of land. That’s what I used for your purchase, as it happens.”

It felt like Peter’s entire world had flipped upside down. “Wait, wait, wait. The _river_? That’s the next town over!”

“Precisely. So much land is considered more problems than it's worth, but Wade was naive and stupid once.” She paused to tilt her head in thought. “Though I suppose he still is.”

Peter had assumed Wade was well off upon first receiving the offer to be mated. Though Wade often complained about Vanessa’s use of his savings, he’d never balked at buying anything his omega needed. Peter had assumed that was alpha courtesy, but perhaps it was more to do with the fact that it made barely a dent in Wade’s wealth. Even without hard numbers stored away in a bank, Wade’s worth in land alone was mind-boggling.

A battle cry jerked Peter from his thoughts. He looked over to see Wade aggressively trying to rip Warren’s cravat to shreds barehanded. Peter supposed no one would blame him for not realizing what Wade’s true position in society was. After all, the man certainly didn’t fit the role. Peter’s eyes slid back to the dollar signs on the documents. He had assumed that the prices were representations of future sales, but were they really just at-cost payment to those that had created these machines? And as Warren had pointed out, the price hadn’t caused a change in Wade’s bank account at all.

Vanessa continued on, oblivious to Peter’s rapidly changing worldview. “Well, the point is, he never wanted to use all of this for a plantation like his grandfather once planned to. He thought of building his own city on it instead, but that was remarkably short-sighted of him. Do you have any idea how much it costs to build brick and mortar buildings? Preposterous. Anyways, now that he’s farming, he may as well use all that land for what it’s best at — growing things. He has all he needs to prove how industrial farming will change the game for everyone in this country.”

Peter leaned his head into his hand as he tried to process all of that. “I can’t even imagine what one would do with all that land.”

“Corn takes forever to grow.” Vanessa tapped her nail on the table as she laid out her thoughts. “He could plant the far fields with corn first and let it be. The closer fields could manage two or three rounds of grains if you’re smart about it. Wheat, canola, barley — any of those would do. And, of course, the hay would be easier to manage. Considering how fast it grows, you could stock the entire town by the end of the year.”

“But…” Peter’s head was reeling. “How would the irrigation work on such a large scale?”

“There are plans for that, too. It’s a matter of moving water from the river to the right places through a series of pipes. Honestly! I’ve done all the footwork for you. The two of you need only follow my plan and profit.”

“It’s so much land,” Peter murmured as he tried to wrap his mind around it. “How are we going to find enough people to work it? We can’t possibly do it all alone. It would take nearly a day just to get _to_ some of those fields.”

“You have Clint to start with. You’ll simply need to find more people to hire.”

As if invoking his name, Clint opened the door and let the dogs into the house. They both bolted right for the two alphas, aggressively licking at them until the fight turned into a survival against slobber. Clint appeared to be highly pleased with himself. He offered both omegas a polite nod.

“I didn’t take you for the kind to let them go like that,” Clint signed.

“They weren’t trying to cause any real harm to one another, and it’s easier if they wear themselves out,” Peter signed back.

Clint walked over to shuffle through the stack of papers with genuine curiosity. He grinned at a few of the designs. “I’ve always wanted to play around with these since I read about them,” he said aloud.

Vanessa waved her hand at Clint with a satisfied smile. “See? I told you he’d help.”

“Your breath smells like dead animal, you mongrel!” Wade complained as he fought and failed to stand. Yellow had a mouthful of shirt she was using to drag the alpha around. Across from them, White was genuinely enjoying the tug of war happening between her and Warren’s left boot.

“I’ll leave the rest up to you two,” Vanessa said. She winked at Clint. “All you need to do is teach Wade a new trick.”

Clint snorted. “My mules are less stubborn than him.”

“Perhaps we could build a city,” Peter mused as he ran his thumb along the crumpled edges of the papers. “A city of families willing to work on this together with us.”

“You focus too much on saving others and you’ll end up just like Wade,” Clint warned in sign. “Don’t forget about building your own family first.”

Not for the first time, Peter realized that Clint was far too observant of both his and Wade’s bad habits.

“I should have run you two off and taken in cats!” Wade shouted at the dogs.

“Does he realize there’s a colony of cats in the barn already?” Clint asked aloud, settling Vanessa off into a burst of cheerful laughter that distracted the dogs at last and had Warren gazing at her with uncontained adoration. Peter turned to smile at his own disheveled alpha. Clint was right. He couldn’t neglect his own potential family, even if the unknown of such a future scared him in a way he couldn’t vocalize.

“The new farming equipment will be here in March,” Peter said, and though Wade continued to grumble and complain, he didn’t argue in the slightest.

☙☀❧

Kurt Wagner was a charming young beta with a quick wit and an excitement for life. He’d grown up Amish, and though he claimed to have loved his childhood and family, he wasn't interested in staying. He said that his hometown was too confining. He also referred to the small town in which he currently resided as “the city.” Peter hadn’t the heart to correct the man.

Well, it all worked out. Of the three interviews Peter had done to find farmhands willing to stay on Wade’s property and learn to work the machinery, only Kurt had been excited to do so. Even better, Kurt had never heard of Wade’s previous disease, so when Peter had simply explained that it left scarring which Wade was self-conscious about, Kurt had taken it in stride. He even understood how such a thing would cause others to speak cruelties and was prepared to ignore the town’s gossip with gusto.

“Those succumbing to vanity will cause only harm to others,” Kurt quoted as they left the local tavern, ignoring how Weasel eyed them in his usual distrustful way. “I was raised to judge what is inside a person.” He grinned wide. “I will judge your alpha based on his own merit, but if an omega such as you are mated to him, I can only assume he is a good man.”

Peter did his best not to be flustered by the comment. “Are all Amish so kind with words?”

“If they speak at all!” Kurt laughed. “I’m too much of a talker for a quiet community.”

“Then you’ll fit right in on our farm.” Peter smiled. “Is a week enough time to settle your affairs here? I can return to help move your belongings and— ”

A great, sorrowful wail cut Peter off. Startled, he looked to the dirty, slush-covered street to see a small child no more than four years old. She stood there in clothes that were certainly not warm enough for the winter weather, and a purple bruise splayed across one side of her face. There was no one close by to claim her or respond to her bellowing sobs.

“Why is she running about the road?” Peter asked in a panic as he darted forward to scoop the girl in his arms. Belatedly, it occurred to him that it was a poor choice. This was confirmed when she thrashed and fought the stranger who had so suddenly picked her up. “It’s okay. I’ll set you down.”

“Momma! Mommaaa!”

Peter hurried back to where he’d left Kurt. “Do you know who her parents are?”

Kurt had only been in the area a few weeks and was currently staying in an attic room of a local business while picking up odd jobs. Still, with how little Peter found himself in town, Kurt likely knew more people and where they lived or worked.

“I rarely make it down to the school, so I’ve only seen the local kids from a distance,” Kurt fretted as Peter set down the squirming child. She stumbled away from them, looking up in fear and anxiety, fat tears still falling down her face. Peter’s heart clenched at how tired and battered she looked.

“I want momma!” she cried, voice barely intelligible.

Peter did his best to offer a friendly smile. He focused his thoughts on feelings of calm and soothing, hoping his scent would rise and ease her anxiety. “I’ll help you find her, alright? Do you know her name? Where does your mom work?”

The child took in a stuttering breath and swallowed before asking, “You’ll bring her back?”

Peter tensed at the phrasing. Kurt must have had the same ominous feeling, for he took in a sharp breath. Peter did his best to keep his voice calm. “Did you get lost while your mom was shopping?”

The girl shook her head and rubbed at her eyes before cringing in pain. She must have forgotten about her injury. “They took me away!”

“Who did?” Peter’s chest clenched. Were there kidnappers nearby? In this town of all places?

“Oma…” Kurt whispered. His face was troubled when Peter turned to meet his eyes. “Last week there were a good many people who passed through. The new town settled just north of here suffered a fire. They lost everything, so I heard. I shared my room with a few men for a night who were on their way to catch the train heading west.”

“New Hope burned?” Peter asked, eyes going wide. He’d been so set on avoiding the usual whispered rumors during his search for employees that he hadn’t heard any local news. He turned back to the girl. “Are you from New Hope?”

The girl nodded and sobbed anew before squeezing out a barely intelligible, “I wanna go home!”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Peter soothed. When he reached an arm out to her, she launched herself into his chest and stayed there, shivering and crying herself hoarse. Peter pulled the edges of his fur-lined winter coat around her to block the chilly wind, rubbing his hands along her back in hopes of warming her up. “Where else are people staying?” he asked Kurt.

Looking up at the beta showed bad news before the man even spoke. “There’s not much work here in the winter. It’s why I was so happy to see you were hiring farmhands. Everyone’s left.”

“But…” Peter placed a protective hand on the girl’s tangled hair.

Kurt winced and lowered his voice. “Momma Frigga offered her storage room for the orphans until they can be placed.”

Peter’s stomach flipped. It made sense now. The girl’s desperation and confusion, her tattered appearance, the injuries… “It’s going to be alright,” Peter murmured as he lifted her back up into his arms. This time, she clung to him with all the strength left in her.

“I’ll walk with you,” Kurt offered. Together, they headed to Momma Frigga’s store with a solemn air hovering over them. The world around them took on a strangely gloomy glow under the clear, pale sky, highlighting the dirty tracks of old snow and ice covering the streets.

They arrived at Fair Necessities to find Frigga already running to meet them, clearly worried sick. “Oh, bless you, Peter! You found Leigh. I never thought she’d run off like that. She slipped by all of us.”

When Frigga reached for the girl, Leigh whined high and loud, clinging harder to Peter’s coat. Peter did his best to keep up the calming scent he was providing for her. He offered Frigga a sad smile. “I’ll take her inside.”

“You’re a good soul,” she said before leading the way. “The young ones have had the hardest time, especially Leigh. She’s got no siblings to connect to.” They made their way through her store, the air warm and the shelves filled with color. Leigh appeared to take no comfort in the inviting space. “I’m worried about how well she’ll fair in a children’s home.”

Leigh sniffled, and Peter held her a little tighter. Most orphanages were in the cities. Children were requested as extra help on farms or placed in factories once they reached the age of eight. It wasn’t an easy life, and they barely had the education to get ahead once in the workforce. Without any family to support them, their only options came down to working themselves into an early grave or marrying whoever would accept them.

When Peter’s parents had died, his mother’s family had seen him as a burden. His father hadn’t been the upper-class alpha they’d wanted their well-bred daughter to marry. If it hadn’t been for Uncle Ben stepping in, Peter would likely have been sent to an orphanage as well. He’d suffered nightmares of being abandoned the entire first year in his new home. Aunt May had been so patient, always coming to his bedside to promise they weren’t going to disappear.

Frigga opened the door to the storage room, and Peter stopped dead in his tracks. Amid the cluttered boxes piled high to the ceiling were piles of old pillows and blankets forming makeshift nests. In those nests were children, some as old as preteens, all of them wrapped up in bandages and sporting dirty clothing. Clean, colored patches stood in contrast to the simple attire, showing the places where Frigga had intervened. For some reason, those bright squares made the sorrow in the room all the more apparent.

“You found Leigh!” one of the boys cried as he jumped to his feet. Half his face was wrapped with bandages, one eye hidden underneath. Another little boy clung to his pant leg. “I swear I took my eyes off her for only a minute. Xander’s been making a mess lately, not wanting to use the bathroom on his own and— ”

“It’s alright, Nickola,” Frigga soothed as she made her way over to him. She squeezed his hand before running fingers through his wild hair in a failed attempt to tame it. “Not your fault, dear. You’re too young to be watchin’ everything all the time. Even I can’t. That’s how she slipped by the both of us.”

“She’s just going to keep tryin’ to run off,” another of the children said. She was curled in the corner, making herself look as small as possible. She was short and petite, yes, but Peter could tell she was older than all the others. Old enough to have been sent off to work immediately instead of kept with the other kids. Likely, Frigga knew that as well but hadn’t said anything.

Peter’s heart hurt. Every pair of sad eyes that met his reminded him of the nightmares he’d once had.

“What’s going to happen to them?” Peter asked, his voice softer and more haunted than intended, but he didn’t have the strength to correct it.

“Most of the homes nearby are full,” Frigga said. She turned to another two children, close in age and clearly siblings, fixing their clothes and tucking them back under a blanket in the nest they’d claimed. “We’re hoping to hear back from Newark — ”

“Newark?” Kurt interrupted. There was a frown on his face. “That’s so far!”

 _And full of factories,_ Peter thought to himself.

“It would be quite the expense to ship them so far, so of course we’re hoping to find something closer by.” Frigga smiled and patted Xander on the cheek before she stood and turned back to Peter and Kurt. “I’ve been doing my best to find them something local, but it’s hard to take on even one child at the end of winter when stores are low.”

“I’m not afraid to work!” Nickola announced, face set with determination. “I’ll work hard enough for both of us!”

“They won’t keep us together,” the girl in the corner muttered. “Any of us.”

Nickola clenched his jaw and balled his hands into shaking fists. His good eye locked on the floor and bottom lip trembling. It was clear he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. Frigga couldn’t argue either. It was better to let the children come to terms with their reality rather than giving him false platitudes. Peter’s grandmother had said that at the funeral.

_“So long as the brat doesn’t lose an arm, he can make a decent living in a factory. He’ll be fine.”_

Peter’s nightmares had included various dismemberments after that.

“Frigga.” Peter turned to the woman with more calm than he actually possessed. “Do you have pen and paper? I must write to my aunt immediately. Also, is there a place in town that will let me send a telegram?”

“Telegram?” Kurt asked.

“I need to let Vanessa know that I’m taking money from Wade’s account.”

Tears sprang to Frigga’s eyes though she smiled wide. “Shall I gather a new order for you?”

“Please.”

Kurt laughed. “I’ll go collect my things. No use waiting when you’re going to be so busy now.”

Peter smiled. A warm, glowing feeling filled his chest, burning away at the cold, tightness that had been eating at him since finding Leigh in the street. “Thank you.”

☙☀❧

The sun had set, but thankfully, there was a full moon and clear sky to light the way. Wade stood on the front porch, leaned against the railing as he watched his breath fog in the air. In the distance, Clint’s cart rattled up the road. The back was filled to the brim with supplies and shivering bodies peeking out at the two dogs excitedly kicking up snow as they ran around.

Peter sat up front, his face hidden in shadow, but his stiff shoulders were telling. When they were close enough, Peter hopped down first to climb the steps and stand under the lantern that was swinging from the overhang. His cheeks and nose were pink from bite of icy wind, copper eyes bright and stubborn from internal fire. The winter coat ordered months ago was cut perfectly to his frame, and Wade took a moment to admire it.

“Vanessa called me,” Wade said in greeting.

“I wasn’t going to leave them there,” Peter immediately returned. “I couldn’t.” He took a deep breath, likely about to launch into whatever speech he’d spent the ride over concocting but never had a chance. Wade brushed his thumb over Peter’s tight lips and set jaw while fighting back a smile.

“I swept out the spare rooms upstairs and set up the heaters. I also pulled up as many jars as I could from the cellar, so the cabinets are full to bursting.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Wade…”

“I’m looking forward to you no longer complaining about how much pickling I do. After all, I have an omega mate that’s determined to save everyone he sees. Clearly, I needed that stockpile.” Wade grinned, and it earned him a surprised chuckle.

“I also brought a farmhand, but that one you’ll have to pay.” Peter raised his eyebrows in a challenge.

“Good. Then Vanessa can focus on my current finances instead of sneakily investing in any more nonsense.”

Peter’s smile was enough to light up the night on its own. He leaned into Wade’s chest and purred when held close. It caused Wade’s heart to flop around in a weird way. He couldn’t remember a time when Peter had let down his guard enough to purr outside of his heat.

“If I’d known that inflicting strangers on me would make you so happy, I’d have ordered some more people long ago.”

Peter scoffed into Wade’s shoulder. “You like people.”

Wade shrugged. “They tend to not like me.”

“The kids will.” Peter pulled back to look Wade in the eye, something heavy, meaningful, and full of love shimmering in his gaze. “I’ll bring everyone to you and show them how wonderful you are. So let’s build your city, right here, together.”

Cold, night air filled Wade’s lungs in a sharp lurch before he pressed forward to leave a searing kiss on his perfect omega’s lips. He pulled back only because there were people waiting that likely didn’t want a front-row seat to this scene while their teeth chattered away. He rested his forehead against Peter’s for a moment before murmuring, “Introduce me to the new family.”

Smelling like warmth and happiness, Peter took Wade’s hand and led the way down the steps. “Oh, by the way.”

“Hm?”

“We’ll need help with so many kids, so I asked Aunt May to move in with us.”

“Wait, what?!”

Peter only laughed as he pulled them towards the curious faces hidden inside layers of blankets. Wade was no longer in control of his life. His little sanctuary away from the world had been invaded and would never be the same again. The walls were breached, the defenses down.

And Wade had never been so happy for it — because love resides at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus! The ballroom dance sketch. hehe
> 
> My old readers: Leigh… Nickola… Are you reusing the kid names from your other fic by changing them to extended spellings?  
> Me: Shhhhhhhhhh. I’m bad with names, and I kinda miss them.


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I assign omega to Mr. Rogers? Yes. Does he fit into my timeline at all? No. But I really liked the quote, so roll with it. lol He also said “family” not “pack” but I’m sure you figured that part out already.

_“If the day ever came when we were able to accept ourselves and our children exactly as we and they are, then, I believe, we would have come very close to an ultimate understanding of what a pack means.” – Om. Fred Rogers_

“Everyone thank your grandmother for making breakfast!” Peter shouted into the chatter of the kitchen as he finished wrapping lunches.

“Thank you, Gramma May!” chorused six voices as various feet slapped the floor in a great exodus of table chairs. Peter could hear Aunt May dropping kisses on cheeks behind him and couldn’t help smiling at the sound.

“Jessica, it’s your job today to make sure your brother keeps his shoes on,” Aunt May ordered. Trenton, the shoe-abandoner in question, whined loudly in protest. Jessica was only eight months older and appropriately irresponsible in her own right, but she fixated on any chance to lord authority over her little brother.

“Did everyone finish their chores properly?” Aunt May asked.

“I got the eggs!” Leigh cried as she ran by like a hawk swooping in on her prey.

“Leave the cat alone,” Peter replied in a knee jerk reaction. He hadn’t seen the cat, to be fair, but he knew what that predatory intent on Leigh’s face meant. He gathered his lunches and began passing them out to the children. “No snacking on these during class.”

Trenton groaned in protest. “Learning makes me hungry, thooough.”

Peter snagged the back of Xander’s collar so Astor could wipe his face clean while handing Nickola a lunch pail. “Make sure your father sits down long enough to eat.”

“Yes, oma!” Nickola saluted with a grin, his red curls spiraling around the burn scars on his cheek. He was due for a haircut, especially when working in this hot weather, but the curls were so cute that Peter couldn’t help but put that off as long as he could.

“I packed some blackberries in there as a reward for your hard work.”

That earned Peter a hug and an excited, “Thanks, Dad,” before Nickola headed out the door. Peter pretended like such moments didn’t still squeeze his heart even after so many years.

Nickola had taken to the machines like a fish to water and seemed happy to work hard to earn his keep. Peter did his best to show in little ways that even without the farm work, Nickola was still family. That also meant lessons at night to keep his sharp mind filled with as much knowledge as Peter could cram in.

The other kids were more receptive to Peter and Wade’s insistence that they were all a pack now. Even Astor, as withdrawn as she had first been, had devoted herself to her new life, desperate to love and be loved in return. Thankfully, for every misstep that Peter or Wade might have made with managing the loneliness and trauma of six kids, Aunt May was there to keep their home on stable ground.

“Is everyone excited to see the new school?” Aunt May asked as she herded children out the door. Many of them cheered in excitement.

“Leigh, put the poor cat down!” Peter scolded to no avail. Leigh took off, the surprisingly docile cat swaying in front of her legs like a particularly furry pendulum.

Outside, the morning sun near blinded them. After blinking away the light, Peter could see more children running up to the freshly painted schoolhouse in the distance. The nearby land had been provided for families to move onto Wade’s property and work the ever-growing fields. Most were immigrants who were used to getting paid unfair wages for the ability to live freely in a new country. Wade made sure to pay them well what their work was worth.

He had it to spare. The investment Vanessa made had already paid for itself three times over in simply what Wade could grow and sell on his land. This didn’t even account for the money earned in shares from selling the now mass-marketed machines. Wade had decided, for once, to use the excess money he had towards building his dream. Apparently, that had resulted first in building Peter a schoolhouse ever since he’d become the impromptu teacher of all the children on Wade’s land.

Out towards the barn, Peter could see Clint and Kurt laughing and signing to one another. Kurt had taken to the language with excitement and was now better at it than anyone save Clint himself. Peter also happened to know that Kurt was becoming something of a teacher himself, training Frigga’s recalcitrant son in the basics of unspoken conversation. It seemed someone had been harboring a crush on Clint. Peter wondered when that secret would finally see the light of day.

Wade exited the barn with Arthur in tow but left the hitching of the horses to Kurt as he jogged over to intercept Peter. “Hello, professor!”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I never finished my education, you know that.”

“With all those books you have, you’re clearly overqualified. I don’t need some dumb college to tell me that. Speaking of books.” Wade snagged the heavy bag of texts and jogged ahead when Peter tried to take them back.

“I’m perfectly strong enough to manage my own things!” Peter protested.

“I never said you weren’t, professor!”

Wade made it to the doors first and was instantly surrounded by children. The smaller ones jumped up and down and demanded attention. Wade doted on them way too much and obliged their cries to be tossed into the air. Peter shook his head at the sight, a smile overtaking his face as warmth swelled in his chest.

The space here smelled of flowers, as Wade had been determined to plant as many blooming plants as he could along the sides of the building, particularly around the large windows. There was even a new peach tree nearby that would one day grow big enough to provide shade and juicy snacks on bright summer days. It was all so picturesque.

Peter made his way through the mass of small excited bodies, greeting the local children as he went, until he made it to the closed, black, double doors of the building. He ran his fingers along the smooth wood, marveling at how perfect it looked. Wade had insisted on it looking straight out of a storybook, all bright red walls, white trim, and black doors. A rope dangled nearby. Peter reached out to grasp it. With a firm tug, he officially rang the shiny, new copper bell, causing many of the kids to shriek in delight.

Aunt May gathered everyone together in orderly lines, though Trenton looked ready to burst from his skin with the need to run around. “Now, everyone thank Al. Wade for building your new school.”

“Thank you, Al. Wade!” they chorused in response.

“Thank you, daddy!” Xander, Leigh, Trenton, and Jessica tacked on.

Wade puffed out his chest, glowing with pride. “My dear children and goblins,” he announced in a formal voice the children giggled at, “I present to you: your learning castle!” He turned to push open the doors.

Sunlight poured in only moments before the kids rushed the room, marveling over the freshly made benches and tables set with clean blackboards and new sticks of chalk. An overly elaborate teacher’s desk sat at the front, something Wade had insisted on making and spent far too long molding, staining, and painting with the finest of details. There were drawers with carved chrysanthemum handles, legs with rushing ocean waves, and an engraved border containing the names of their children. Simply looking at it spoke of how much love and happiness had been built into the very core of it.

Wade set Peter’s bag atop the desk and turned to his mate with a glowing smile. “Professor Peter, I hope your new accommodations are up to your standards.”

Peter placed his hands on Wade’s broad chest to steady himself as he pushed upwards to drop a soft, loving kiss on those perfectly scarred lips. “They always are, my alpha.”

Blue eyes widened before a wicked grin spread across Wade’s face. He pressed his lips to Peter’s ear. “My omega,” he breathed, sending a shiver down Peter’s spine. “Tonight, I’ll show you how grateful I am to fate for bringing you to me.”

“Fate,” Peter murmured. He turned his face into Wade’s neck. “Fate has nothing to do with it. We did this. You and me. Always.” Their lips met again in a long, slow kiss that was dangerously close to causing the world to fall away, allowing them to be lost in one another. Only the screeching of various tiny voices pulled them back to reality.

Peter pulled back with a tilt of his head and a coy finger tapping his lips in thought. “Well, to be fair, it was you, me, and Vanessa.”

Wade’s ensuing pout pulled a burst of laughter from Peter. It echoed through the rafters, blending with the sunlit dust motes and smell of fresh paint, establishing this room as a place filled with joy and love. It would be the foundation on which the children worked towards their future, and it was the culmination of everything Peter and Wade had managed to grow between them.

Here, surrounded by eager minds, a close family, and an adoring mate, Peter found he’d never been happier in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> http://thatvixenchick.tumblr.com  
> https://twitter.com/The_Vixen13 (nsfw)
> 
> https://gen-syz-art.tumblr.com/  
> https://twitter.com/Gensyzart
> 
> [Art Post](https://twitter.com/Gensyzart/status/1361009765556637696?s=19)
> 
> (I have spoken to this artist, discussed this with them, have permission from them to show this picture, have permission to talk about this picture, have permission to note and link to the artist who drew it, and am in continuous contact with this artist. Photo manips are made by myself from Canva free source images. Thank you.)


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